The Earth Beneath My Feet
by Aki and Tenshi
Summary: Kurt wakes up in a hospital. The doctor tells him he was in a car accident. He also tells him it's 2019 and the guy sitting next to him is his husband. The last thing Kurt remembers is the beginning of his sophomore year of High school. An amnesia story.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The first thing Kurt thought when he woke up was 'Why do those lights have to be so bright?' as he squinted up at the florescent light fixtures that were hazily defined above him. The second thought he had was that he wished that unrecognized voice that was yelling things like "Can I get a doctor in here?" and "He's waking up!" would be a little more quiet.

'Must be in a hospital,' was Kurt's third thought and he was rather impressed by that deduction, considering why he couldn't remember why he was in the hospital and what had happened just before… glee practice? No, it was telling Mercedes he was gay, his heart pounding in his ribcage, and crying despite efforts not to, then walking out of the school after. Dad took his car, so he wasn't in an accident, not unless someone had hit him as he was walking, but he felt it that were the case he should be hurting more. Maybe he was cornered after school and tossed in the dumpster again. Maybe he hit his head on the edge… that would make sense.

"Kurt," a voice said. He blinked a few times and his vision went from fussy to slightly less fuzzy. A hand was on his shoulder. He shifted his head to the side on his pillow to spy an older man who was mostly bald and in a lab coat and round glasses. "I'm Doctor Stein. I'm going to incline your bed. "

Kurt felt the top half of his bed start to slant upward and even held the mechanical murmur of it. Dr. Stein stopped in a mostly upright position.

"You were in a car accident. Do you remember?"

"No," Kurt said, but it voice was just a croak.

"Here." A plastic cup of water was held out in front of him, but a man, in his mid-, or maybe a well-preserved late-, twenties. He was rather bedraggled looking: his clothes wrinkled; his dark, curly hair a mess on his head; his eyes with bags under them. But that was not what stood out most about him. Rather, it was the intense way he was looking at Kurt, both desperate and hopeful, and so much that Kurt could only look him in the eye for a moment before dropping his gaze.

Kurt reached out with an unsure hand and grasped the cup. His grip felt weak and shaky, but, hey, car accident, right? This young man kept a balancing hold on the cup as Kurt brought it to his lips and took a long sip. Who was this guy, an intern or an orderly or something? Who would let him work looking like he just came off a hangover?

"Thanks," he muttered afterwards.

Dr. Stein had waited for this entire exchange to occur before he continued. "It's very common to lose some time after a head injury. You've been in a coma for two days."

"Oh, Gaga," Kurt said. Kurt saw the might-have-been-drunk last night guy grin from the corner of his eye and he wondered if he was silently laughing at him, that even in a hospital he couldn't be free of bullies, even if they were being quiet about it.

Dr. Stein said he needed to perform a few tests to see how he was, so he ended doing those things were doctors shine lights in your eyes and make you follow their finger with just your eyes.

"Looking good so far. Now I just want to go through a few questions to test your memory… and then a nurse will come in a little while to take your vitals, so—"

Kurt interrupted with something that had been nagging at him. "Where's my dad?"

Dr. Stein glanced, confused, from Kurt to the curly-haired man on the opposite side.

"At home," Curly said.

That hurt, a little, maybe, because he expected his dad would care enough to be here. Perhaps they had sent him home, like they do in movies and TV shows when a loved one in is a hospital and they are wearing themselves ragged waiting for them to get better. Yeah, that sounded more like his dad.

"Aren't you going to call him and tell him I'm awake?" Kurt directed this at Doctor Stein, but yet again he glanced over to Intense Eyes, who said, "As soon as this is over." There something off about this guy's tone. Something he couldn't identify, but was sounding a bit worried and a bit short, and not particularly professional. And why was the doctor deferring to him anyway?

Doctor Stein cleared his thought. "Let's do the questions… So, do you know your full name?"

"Yeah. Kurt Hummel."

Mr. Needs-to-Learn-How-to-Use-an-Iron shifted in his seat.

"Parents names?"

"Burt and Elizabeth Hummel."

"And to the best of your recollection, what's the date? What's last day you remember?"

Kurt scrunched up his face in thought, and then spoke slowly, tentatively, "October…12th?"' He looked up to see Dr. Stein and, Kurt looked over in confirmation, Random Guy looking generally worried with that answer. "Okay," Kurt snapped, "But at least I know it's 2009."

The guy Kurt still couldn't settle on a good nickname for was looking at him with a mild sort of horror written over his face. Kurt looked up at Dr. Stein, who was scribbling something down on his chart, and asked, "What?"

Dr. Stein stopped writing. He looked his patient in the eye and said, "Kurt, this is going to come as a shock to you, but I want you to try to remain calm. The hospital has many counselors on staff that can help work through this…"

"What?" and his voice when higher than normal, which was saying something, because he was nervous and scared, and he didn't even know what was wrong yet.

"It's not 2009. It's 2019."

A cold sort of dread tickled down his spin. A little laugh escaped his thought. "You're joking, right?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not. I wouldn't joke about this. It looks like a typical case of retrograde amnesia-"

"Oh my God," Kurt said, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling. "When did I start living in a soap opera?"

"He'll be able to get them back, right? He'll get his memories back?"

Kurt decided that he would have to go on calling this guy Intense Eyes, because, yeah, his eyes were intense, except this time they were concentrated on the doctor… and looked kind of devastated. It was the first time Kurt considered that this person wasn't the hospital staff, that maybe he was here for him.

"There's always the chance, especially with amnesia caused by head trauma. It's hard to predict. And if it happens, it's very gradual…"

"Kurt," said Intense Eyes, suddenly ignoring Doctor Stein, and looking right at him with those very hazel eyes of his. "Do you not remember me?"

"What's your name?" Kurt asked, quietly, almost hopeful for both him and this guy that maybe a name would all the trigger he needed.

"Blaine," the guy supplied in just above whisper, his voice almost cracking.

Kurt let that run through him for a moment. _Blaine, Blaine, Blaine._ It was a nice name, but it didn't mean anything to him.

He shrugged. "Sorry… Are you a friend of mine?"

This Blaine guy looked up at the doctor, but Kurt didn't turn. "I'll leave you two alone," he heard Doctor Stein say. "If you need anything, page a nurse, and they can get me if necessary." Then there was a sound of a door opening and closing. Kurt was still looking at Blaine for an answer.

"Kurt," he said, and he reached across himself from the chair he was perched in with his left hand and took Kurt's left. Kurt looked down at their joined hands and he saw it— the matching platinum rings on both of their index fingers— just a second before Blaine said, "I'm your husband."

…

Kurt stared at their hands, at the rings.

"It's legal in New York now," Blaine supplied after Kurt's had pervaded a little too long.

That, of all things, made Kurt break out of his trance. He looked instantly up at Blaine. "We're in New York?" he asked, excited. 2019, husbands, Blaine were all things that confusing and new, but New York was tangible, his dream, his ambition, and it was something he could believe it.

Blaine smiled at his reaction. God, he had nice smile, Kurt thought. Then it made his heart skip, because that smile was for him. No one had smiled like that at him before. Well, he supposed Blaine had, but didn't remember any those times.

Blaine disentangled their hands as he stood up. He walked across the small room and opened the venetian blinds on a window. It wasn't some recognizable, iconic skyline. It could have been any major city, but it wasn't Lima outside his window, and that was enough proof.

"Oh." Kurt collapsed back into his pillows and closed his eyes. This was really too much to take in.

"You can ask me _anything._"

Kurt peaked an eye open to see Blaine leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed over her waist. There were a million questions to be asked and some Blaine couldn't answer, like 'why is this happening to me?'

"I'll start simple... what's your last name?"

"Anderson," Blaine said, walking back across the room and sliding into his chair. "Though technically, _our_ last name is Hummel hyphen Anderson. I knew something was off when you didn't say that, but I thought you were just still mad at me."

Kurt titled his head in question. Blaine waved a dismissive hand. "Before the accident, we had a tiff. It was petty, all things considered."

Kurt pursed his lips and nodded. Asking what it had been about felt too personal, even if he had been one half of the argument.

"And, um, when did we meet?"

"High school. Your junior year, my sophomore. We were actually members of rival glee clubs—"

"Glee? Gosh, I just joined that. Or, I mean, I just remember joining that. Wow, this is really confusing to talk about."

"Say whatever you need to say," Blaine said. Kurt took a real moment to look at him again. He was so gentle, so nice, and he wasn't running away from this. He was here, and he was holding Kurt's hand again and Kurt didn't even realize he had reached down and took it because it felt so natural. With him, there, this stranger, he think maybe he can deal with this.

He was pretty sure it would all catch up with him tonight when he was trying to sleep. That it would crash in on him and Kurt would feel the miserable impact of losing ten years of his life. That he was with a person that was essentially a stranger. That he didn't know what anything meant anymore or how else the world had changed in those tiny ways you barely notice when you live them because it seems to change so slow.

"I actually should call your dad, and everyone, and tell them you're awake, and what's going on…"

It hit Kurt then. His dad knew. His dad knew he was gay. Kurt was married to a man. Everyone knew. He wasn't sure if it were a relief or a burden. In one way, he didn't have to face all the anxieties of actually coming out, but, in the other way, it was like he had been outed. The Kurt he was, the one who he remembered, and was still a sophomore in high school, hadn't been ready to come out. Perhaps soon, perhaps he was moving towards him. Here, it had been ripped from him.

"I'm not out," Kurt said. Blaine looked up from him from where he had been fishing his cell phone out of his jeans pocket.

"I mean. I don't remember… coming out. I've only told Mercedes and… that was today…or, the last day I remember."

Blaine looked sympathetic. There may have something else mixed into the emotions on his face as well, but Kurt suspected the him that was supposed to be in 2019 would have picked it up, but the him of 2009 just didn't know Blaine well enough.

"Just so you know, you're dad is really cool with it. He's just awesome."

"Yeah?" It was tinged it hopeful and disbelief. Because Kurt always wanted to believe his dad would be that way, would love him no matter what, but his dad was a Midwestern, car-fixing, football-watching, plaid-wearing, small town, lived-here-all-his-life kind of guy, and the images didn't seem to mesh.

He leaned across the edge of the bed and placed a warm hand on Kurt's cheek. "Yeah," Blaine said with one of those grins of his. He was way too close and Kurt had an inkling that Blaine may try to kiss him and he pulled away from the touch.

He looked down at his sheets. He didn't want to see Blaine's reaction, but he could tell from the shift in the shadows that he had sat back down. It was weird, because Kurt knew he should want to be kissed. He did. He wanted to be kissed. And Blaine was there— handsome, sweet, and obviously caring about him.

But he couldn't help but think about all those other things, those unofficial rites of passage he had forgotten, as Blaine quietly dismissed himself to the hallway to make the phone calls. Like his first kiss, his first date, his first time. If he met Blaine his next year in high school, there was a good chance that Blaine was all of those. Blaine remembered, but Kurt didn't. It was another one of those things that felt unbalanced and unfair. The easy sort of intimacy that Blaine was used to with him, the hand holding, touching, kissing,…sex, Kurt didn't… he wasn't…

Kurt wasn't a lot of things except, apparently, a sixteen year old in a twenty-six year old's body… or he could be twenty-five still, no one ever told him the exact. Ten years. He had lost ten years. It was enough to go crazy and fill his head with fluff that made it hard to think, so that the time Blaine was absent from the room passed swift.

"I'm not sure he's ready," Blaine argued into his cell phone when he reentered the room ten minutes later. "Look, Rachel, look…I just called you because I wanted your help to tell everyone else what's— No, Rachel. I don't think you're going to jog his memory…Okay, okay, I give up. Hold on…" Blaine held out his cell towards Kurt. "Rachel Berry is on the phone. She wants to talk to you."

* * *

><p>Aki- So, this is my take on a Klaine amnesia story. I have had this idea for ages, but have not had the time to write it. Chapters will always be approximately around this length. Gah, I have so many scenes and things I want to happen. Can't wait.<p>

Only my second Glee story. (I wrote more fanfiction when I was in high school and that was before Glee was around.) The previous one is serious of one chapter story AU's about different ways Kurt could have come out to Burt. Check out my story listings if you are interested. Yes, I am self-promoting.

So, last thing- Feedback? Are you interested? Any ways I could improve?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"I just spent twenty minutes on the phone getting assured that this is reality and not some strange con that you are Doctor Stein are in on by none other than Rachel Berry, the most annoying girl in school," Kurt stated. Blaine had disappeared after he had handed over the phone—presumably to give Kurt and _Rachel_ some privacy— but was now back again.

"You guys are best friends," Blaine said.

"I know. She told me. Rachel Berry is my bestie and Finn Hudson," his cheeks tinged pink because his _husband_ was right there and awesome and all, but he still had this crush, "Is my step-brother. And apparently Rachel and Finn are in an epic on-again, off-again romance that is currently off again, but Rachel is looking to change that."

Blaine raised his strangely triangular eyebrows. "Huh, she was in a big independent, I-don't-need-a-man phase I last talked to her,… but that was last week."

Kurt giggled. He was turning Blaine's phone around and around in his hands.

"Did talking to Rachel do you any good?"

"I have to admit it was nice to hear the voice of someone I actually know… no offense."

Blaine nodded sagely in return as if to say, none taken. He was so gracious. If their positions had been reversed, if it was he, Kurt, who had been in love, been married, and that got forgotten, he wouldn't be taking it so calmly. And every little slip up would be a stab.

"I brought dinner," Blaine said, holding up bags in both of his hands. "I knew Rachel would take a while and I figured that neither of us would be fond of the cafeteria, so I went to this strip mall down a block. There was a Japanese restaurant." There was a plastic, wheely table that was meant to hold trays over the bed in the corner of the room. Blaine marched over to it, set his bags down, and rolled it over to the bed. Kurt peeked into the bag.

He made a little sound of pleasure that came from the back of his throat. "I love sushi."

"I know," Blaine said, and yeah, he would know, wouldn't he. So as Blaine started pulling the plastic containers out of the bag, Kurt decided to add. "There isn't a decent sushi place in Lima."

"Well," Blaine said, considering, "There wasn't."

Things felt awkward again. It wasn't Blaine that he forgot. It wasn't a development in his personal life. It was just a restaurant, apparently, but it was so much. The world had changed around Kurt, and he was just left wondering.

...

When Blaine came back the next day, he was much better kept. He had must have gotten a good night sleep because the circles under his eyes were gone. That, or he used a really good concealer. His hair was parted to the side and practically shellacked down with gel. After a moment's consideration, he figured that if he, Kurt, hadn't weaned Blaine off of that much gel since they had met in high school, he figured he hadn't had a hell of a chance in the present. Which was a pity, his curly hair was cute, even if it had been a tangled mess yesterday.

Blaine had stayed a good part of the evening the night before, but Kurt was feeling sleepy not far into the evening. That was normal, the nurses told them. Even if he did just wake up from a coma, it was natural to be tired. A coma sleep and a normal sleep were very different. The nurses also took it as an opportunity to strong arm Blaine into going home and taking care of himself. "You know your husband is fine now. Go home, get a shower, get some sleep, and come back in the morning…"

"I ran into Doctor Stein on the way in," Blaine said, after a morning's greeting. "He said that the hospital is going to release you later today."

"Oh," Kurt said, because that was good. Being released was good; it meant he was better enough to leave, to go home. But what was home? Home with Blaine? Somewhere here, in New York? A home that he didn't even remember? Could that even be called home?

Plus, he was comfortable here, in the hospital room with Blaine. It was a turf that was technically neither of theirs and there were always plenty of other people about. Back at wherever they lived, it would just be Kurt and Blaine. It's not that Kurt had any reason not to trust Blaine, it's just that he had very few to trust him either. Suddenly, the situation seemed a lot scarier again.

"I—I brought some clothes," Blaine said, his voice coming out rushed, and he seemed to be the nervous one now. He swung a satchel off of his shoulder and handed it to Kurt.

Kurt flipped it open and pulled out the carefully folded clothes. On top was a pair of white skinny jeans he didn't remember. Of course he didn't remember, he admonished himself, fashion changes. One day you're in, the next day, you're out, as Heidi would say. There was no way his clothes would still be all the same. He felt the material under his thumbs and it was surprisingly soft for demin. With a flick of his wrists, he had them unfolded in front of him and they were much longer than he wore. He must have gotten taller. He looked down the bed where his feet were making little mountains under the blankets as if trying to estimate how many more inches were on him. He had been out of bed once, last night, to go to the bathroom, but he had been half asleep and the lights had been dimmed and he really hadn't been of the mind to notice.

Under the jeans was a black, v-neck t-shirt that had a silver chain-pattern, weaving around the back and front. Lastly, there was a dark gray jacket with three-quarter sleeves and a high collar.

"I thought I'd go with something fairly simple, because you're coming home from the hospital… and I am not always great at matching your clothes and I didn't want you to make fun of me."

Blaine was smiling again, and it was rather addictive, infective, even if Kurt's nerves were boiling just under his skin.

"Well," he said, his tone sort of snippy, but teasing, "You did an okay job, but if you were working with my wardrobe, that is to be expected." Blaine's smile widened by a fraction.

"I'm going to go change…" Kurt muttered, and he swung his legs over the side of his bed, bundling the pile of clothes up in his arms. He would glad to get out of the hospital gown, even though it wasn't one of those atrocious paper ones.

"Take the bag," Blaine said after him, picking it up from the bed and holding it out to Kurt, who was halfway across the floor to the attached bathroom on the hospital room. "It's has shoes and socks and underwear…" Blaine said it as if it was nothing, but Kurt must have been channeling a sixth grader, because he was blushing at the word _underwear_.

He reached out to take the bag, and his fingers brushed against Blaine's on the straps. They had held hands, this shouldn't be a big deal, but Kurt couldn't help the super self-consciousness. Sure, he could go up on stage and perform "Push It" with all the sexual moves, but that was acting. He was playing a part. This was real life, and Blaine knew what his underwear looked like.

Once he had a good grip on the bag, he scurried into the bathroom, shut and locked the door, and heaved a big sigh. He began to change clothes, having his hospital garb off and his underwear and pants on when he caught sight of himself in the large mirror over the sink.

He looked different. Of course, he had to. He was twenty-six now, not sixteen, but still. It was weird to remember looking one way one day and awake the next look slightly different. It was like one of those funhouse mirrors that distorted your proportions, except it was only working in favors here. He was thinner; the last of the baby fat that had been clinging to his bones the last he recalled was gone. Kurt thought it showed the most in his face, as he turned his head side to side, inspecting it. However, he couldn't help run a hand down the front of his torso, where they was definitely less fat and more muscle than he remembered. He was hardly a body builder, but he had some definition.

He pulled his hand away as it went past his navel, like his own body had been scalding. He was… hot. He was hot. Sure, he had told that to himself before when he had conceived a particularly great outfit, but he had still felt awkward and unpleased with his physical appearance, waiting for that last push of puberty to come in like it had or so many of the other boys in his school already. Now, that he looked at himself as an adult, grown into his body, he didn't feel that thrumming sense of unsure.

There was a knock on the door and Blaine yelling from the other side, "Everything alright in there?"

"Yeah," Kurt squeaked and quickly pulled on his shirt and jacket. He wanted to do something with his hair, which was lank and undone and lying uneven on his forehead. But he didn't have a comb, or any product, and it was greasy and he kind of really needed a shower. But at the moment, there was nothing to be done for it, so he tugged his shirt straight and walked out of the bathroom.

Blaine was standing, hovering, by the chair at bedside. Kurt, now dressed, felt weird going back to bed now that he was dressed, so he went to the window and stared out at the city. He was there a minute or two before Blaine joined him, standing a good few inches away, as thought knowing that physical contact would set Kurt off in a second.

Kurt glanced over at him and squinted his eyes. "I'm taller than you," he said in surprise.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I'm aware."

"I— just didn't notice when we were both sitting." And he remembered being a five foot-six inch high school boy with everyone, even many of the girls, taller than him. All of his…fantasies, the other guy was always taller. But here Kurt was with a shorter guy. Not that he minded, that big, impossible, his future/present husband was shorter than him. It was just unexpected. Of course, the whole waking up in a hospital bed and it suddenly being 2019 was unexpected too.

...

As hospital red tape could make things achingly slow, it wasn't until that late afternoon that Kurt was being released, after a final checkup from the nurses and Dr. Stein. He left with a recommendation from the doctor if he had any headaches to take ibuprofen and a phone number of a psychologist tucked into his hand. "I want you to contact her within the week," Doctor Stein had said, "She's an associate of mine, so she is expecting you and I will hear if you don't." Then, more seriously, "You lost a large part of our memory, Kurt, it is important to have someone to talk to. And have someone to make sure you're adjusting alright."

...

They were in an elevator going down to the lobby, Kurt and he, the only ones in the large, sleek space. They were standing maybe a foot apart and the distance seemed significant. It was to Blaine. The boy— and, yes, Blaine knew he was a man, an adult, but Kurt seemed to young now, so unassured…not quite even the Kurt he had met when had snuck into Dalton to spy— seemed tense around him. Pulled away from his touch more than once, kept his distance. Blaine didn't want him to feel uncomfortable or claustrophobic. He didn't want Kurt to think he expected anything... physical from him.

Kurt began to giggle. That was odd. Kurt had been keeping calm, stoic even, but Blaine expected he had been on the edge of either a sobbing fit or a temper tantrum. Or an existential crisis. God, Blaine knew he would be. Laughter, genuine, gleeful laughter, was not something Blaine considered an option.

"What?" Blaine said, confused, and he smiled, because if he didn't he was pretty sure he would be the one of the edge of a sobbing fit/temper tantrum/existential crisis. Plus, Kurt seemed to like his smile. Well, he knew his Kurt, the Kurt he had known for about nine years liked his smile, but this Kurt, the one, whose memories he never touched, who technically, Blaine had never met and had been thrown into this crazy, soap opera-like situation, seemed to like his smile. He had spotted how Kurt had concentrated on his mouth in these moments and how a touch of tension would leave his shoulders.

"Well, it's like…" Kurt said, rolling his eyes up to stare at the ceiling of the elevator. "I keep thinking how this feels like I'm going home with a stranger… and how when you're a little kid you are always told not to do that…" Kurt looked over at Blaine and bit his bottom lip, "I'm sorry. I'm making you sad."

Blaine's smile must have dropped at some point. "No." _Yes. _"No," Blaine repeated, with a wave of his hand.

Kurt gave him a weak smile.

'Dammit, Blaine,' he said to himself. Because, really, it was two steps forward and three steps back with this version of Kurt.

Blaine then felt guilty, as elevator dinged open and they walked across the lobby and out the front doors of the hospital. To refer to Kurt as a version. He didn't need an update or a replacement model. He was Kurt, his Kurt, the man he married and loved. It was just that Kurt had forgotten.

* * *

><p>Aki- Eleven reviews and over forty alerts, I just about died. Thank you for all the support. Also, one reviewer pointed out that my dates were inconsistent last chapter (whether it was 2019 or 2021). That has now been fixed. It was a result of me not being able count and changing the year halfway through editing the story. To clarify things for those not going back to reread chapter 1, it is 2019.<p>

So, if you all are really nice, I just might be able to update again tomorrow (Christmas) evening...so, hit that review button and start being nice :-P.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Kurt was staring out the window on the drive home. It wasn't in that absent, lost-in-thought sort of way. Rather, it was with a rapt attention. It was endearing, really. Kurt was like that about New York, back in high school and the beginning of college when it had all been brand new. It made Blaine feel a little closer to him.

"I can't believe I'm here," Kurt whispered. Blaine wasn't sure if it was intended for him or not, but he decided to take what he could get. The silence that had persisted for twenty minutes now was just about killing him.

"I want to be a part of it, New York, New York," Blaine sang, medium-toned, over his steering wheel. Kurt turned to look at him with wide eyes.

"You can sing," he said in wonder. "I know you said you were in a glee club, but you can _sing._"

It took all Blaine's ability to keep his eyes (mostly) on the road, and not soak in Kurt's look of wonderment, and his blue (usually…sometimes…but definitely right now) eyes. He said casually, "Did you really think you'd end up with a guy who didn't sing?"

Kurt blinked down, and for the briefest second, Kurt's long, dark lashes were against his porcelain, pale cheeks, then up again, and thank God they were at a red light because Blaine could not have kept his attention on the road even if a eighteen wheeler had been barreling down on them.

"I suppose not," Kurt said, and it was all demure and coy, but Blaine knew he wasn't doing it on purpose. Kurt, particularly teenage Kurt, was painfully obvious when it came to flirting, just as Blaine had been painfully oblivious.

The car behind them honked, and Blaine jolted in his seat. The light had turned green.

...

Their apartment was decent-sized, Kurt determined, as he followed Blaine through the front door. That must have meant they were doing fairly well with whatever the either of them were doing with their lives. He didn't know what that was yet. He would have to add it to his mental list of questions, which was already fairly long. But if he asked a question about his life every time he had one, he would never stop asking.

He was itching to get his hands on an iPhone and put them all down in a note.

"Do I have a cell phone?" Kurt blurted out suddenly. He forgot to censor himself this time.

"You did, but it was destroyed in the accident. We'll have to go buy a new one. Really, it was a miracle that you got away with a bump on the head and not a scratch on you… even if that bump on the head has a lot of ramifications…"

Kurt nodded and reached behind himself to pull the front door closed. He took a tentative step forward. Blaine was already over by a coffee table and tossing his keys into a decorative bowl in the center.

"Make yourself at home, because, you know, it is."

Blaine disappeared through an open doorway to what Kurt could see was a kitchen. He decided on taking a perched seat on the camel couch and observe the room. It was decorated in earth tones, mostly concentrated in shades of brown. The TV and its accompanied electronics and DVD collection were on a dark wood cabinet on the opposite wall. On either side were a vertical line of framed photographs that he would have to investigate later. There was a slim, tall bookcase stuck in the corner, all the shelves filled. Behind him was the accent wall, a dark, chocolate brown, with a large, frameless mirror hung in the middle.

Blaine came back and held out a bottle of water to him. Kurt took it and thanked him quietly. He was thirsty and Blaine seemed to know what he wanted before Kurt did and it would have been romantic if it didn't feel creepy. (It shouldn't be creepy. If Kurt had remembered Blaine, remembered Blaine learning everything about him, It was have been sweet, caring, romantic…it wouldn't have been creepy. But he didn't, so it was.)

Blaine sat down on the opposite side of the couch, and there was an entire cushion empty between them. He twisted off the cap of his own bottle and took a few gulps.

"I like the color scheme of this room. It's very warm and cozy."

"It was all you," Blaine said.

"Oh, well, I do have good taste," Kurt said, and it was a touch pompous and a touch joking.

"You do. Wait until you see the rest of the apartment."

"It will a fantastic surprise all day."

Blaine drummed his fingers on his khaki-covered knee. "Do you want to watch TV, well, you probably don't know any of the shows… or we could watch a movie. There is probably a good few in our collection you don't remember seeing."

Kurt shrugged. "I don't really feel like it. I mean, I lost, what, eight years of my life. I feel like it would be that big waste of time they warn us about as kids to watch TV now."

"Yeah, that's fine," Blaine said. "It's still early for dinner, so we can talk, or do, whatever we want."

"Can I look at the…" He pointed at framed photographs on the wall.

"Go ahead."

Kurt approached the wall, and tilted his head up to look at the top of the row on the right side of the television. It was of Blaine and he. They were smiling and had their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they were dressed in pristine white suits. It was odd to see himself so comfortable in the picture. Intellectually, yes, it was him, but it could have been photoshopped for how off it looked.

"Wedding?"'Kurt asked, pointing at it.

"Yeah," Blaine said from the other side of the room.

"We look fabulous," Kurt said, eyeing their outfits again.

"Always." Kurt could practically hear the smile in Blaine's voice.

He shifted his focus down to the next. It was Kurt, Finn, Rachel, Mercedes, and, oddly, those cheerleaders Santana and Brittany in graduation caps and gowns. The one under was Blaine in his high school graduation gown, posing with Tina, Artie, who Kurt knew were a grade below him, and some buff blonde boy he was unfamiliar with. Suddenly he was confused again.

"Wait you're younger? And I thought you said you were in a rival glee club…"

"I'm in a lower grade, but we are the same age…" Blaine started in explanation, but Kurt interrupted with a teasing,

"Did you get held back, Blaine?"

"It's a long story."

Kurt's mood dampened. There was something behind that; something not good. He turned back to the pictures.

"And for the second question," said Blaine, "I transferred to McKinley…to be with you."

"That's sweet," said Kurt, but it was quiet and caught in his throat and he couldn't be sure if Blaine heard or if Kurt wanted to repeat it. He cleared his throat and pointed he picture below, the last one in the column where he recognized Blaine amongst a group of boys in navy blazers with red piping, "This your original school, with the cute little uniform?"

"Yeah, that's Dalton… and I knew you liked the blazer…"

Kurt decided not to ask and went over to the other side of the television. There was another picture of their wedding, this time with the wedding party, which included Rachel, Mercedes, Finn, and someone he recognized from the picture from Dalton. Others were unfamiliar: college friends, New York friends, Blaine's friends, Blaine's family?

The next was another wedding photography, but this time not of his and Blaine's ceremony, but of his father and Finn's mom— Kurt wasn't sure of her name. It was a posed picture, taken in the church, with Finn and Kurt flanking their parents. His family had changed so much, doubled in size. He was glad, now, that Rachel had mentioned it on the phone, or this would've been quite the shock.

The next picture was of New Directions, including Blaine, and most of the faces familiar, and a few unknown.

The bottom most photograph had been taking in a living room he wasn't familiar with, but that was definitely the couch and the lamp from his house, so maybe they moved? There were Burt, Finn's mom (he really out to find out her name if she was his step-mom now), Finn, Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine. They all looked too old for it to have been taken in high school.

Kurt felt a headache coming on.

...

Blaine watched Kurt peruse the photographs and he was happy that he was taking interest. And he was showing some of his attitude in moments. That didn't mean he was remembering, but it meant he was getting comfortable. His self-compliments about his interior decorating had Blaine thinking back to the West Side Story performance, after opening night. "I can't help but steal focus." Blaine would never forget; he had run that conversation through his head over and over again, that, and everything that had followed.

Kurt turned around from examining the photographs, the bridge of his nose pinched between his thumb and pointer.

"Headache?" Blaine asked without thinking.

Kurt dropped his hand and gave him a stunned look.

"You always pinch the bridge of your nose when you are getting a headache," Blaine explained sheepishly. He needed to stop predicting everything Kurt was doing or going to do just because he knew him so well. It was freaking this Kurt out. "I'll get you something…" Blaine went to the bathroom and dumped two Advils into his palm and returned to the living room. He held out his hand to Kurt.

Kurt plucked them from his palm, tossing them into his mouth and swallowing them dry.

"I think I will watch some TV after all."

Blaine decided not to say anything.

* * *

><p>Aki- Sorry I did not get this up on Christmas like I said I might. Slightly shorter chapter this time. It feels a little filler-y to me, but I think it needs to be there. I want this story to be about the small moments. Next chapter should be up either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. Reviews?<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Kurt ended up watching television, because "I better start catching up with what is going on in the world." Blaine didn't think bad TLC reality shows were the best option for current events, but he wasn't going to nag. Plus, he thought Kurt was using the television as a crutch to avoid forced conversation or awkward silence. Blaine had suggested it before for that very same reason.

A half hour ago, Blaine had retreated to the kitchen, where he had begun to cook dinner for the two of them. It was a good sort of distraction. He was doing something that was productive, that was necessary, thus he could minimize the guilt building in his chest in avoiding the living room, where Kurt sat, curled up with his knees under his chin, on their couch.

The meal was ready and the table set not fifteen minutes later. The reprieve was over.

Blaine went to stand in the doorless doorway between the kitchen/dining room and the living room, knocking on the wall to get Kurt's attention. "Dinner's ready whenever you are. It can wait until your show is done…"

"No, that's okay," Kurt said, lifting the remote and turning the television off. "I think I've seen this one before… Sorry, bad joke," Kurt tagged on when Blaine hadn't responded.

Blaine cleared his throat. "It's okay. You can joke about it all you want if it helps you cope." Blaine didn't want Kurt to joke about it really. It was too fresh a wound. They could joke about in a year's time, when this was nothing more than a crazy part of their lives, when (when, always when, never if) Kurt got his memory back.

"Oh, my God. Doctor Stein is already forcing me to go see a shrink. You don't need to speak like one too."

Blaine raised his hands in defeat, but if he wasn't saying the perfect words, he didn't know what he was going to say.

Dinner was quiet. Mostly chewing and clanking of utensils and Kurt making a few compliments about Blaine's stir-fry.

...

Kurt yawned and his eyes drooped. He had been watching television for too many hours now, but, really, what else could he do, but interrogate Blaine about his former life. After dinner he had taken an absurdly long shower to both reacquaint his skin and hair with some of the care it must have been missing during his coma days as well as reacquaint himself with his products. He some different brands now that he had to test out, although he mostly trusted his own judgment.

"Looks, like it's somebody's bed time," Blaine commented from where he sat, again on the opposite side of the couch.

Kurt shrugged. It was only eleven, but he was ready to fall asleep right here.

"Come on. Get up." There was a shift in the couch meaning Blaine had stood up.

Kurt groaned, but stood, then followed Blaine to the door to the only room of the apartment Kurt hadn't yet seen.

"The bedroom," Blaine announced mildly, opening the door, and standing back to let Kurt enter. If he weren't so zapped, he commented on the great red-white-black color scheme, his color scheme.

"Your pajamas are right here," Blaine said, as he pulled out the middle draw of a bureau that was tucked against the wall right next to the door.

Kurt trudged over and pulled out box-weave, long-sleeved shirt. "I would never wear this, even to sleep in."

"That's my pajamas," Blaine said, gently tugging the shirt from Kurt's hands. "Yours are on the left side of the drawer."

Kurt took a step to the left and pulled out a blue, button-down pajama top that felt like satin under his fingers. "Hmm, much better." He found the matching bottoms, and then looked over at Blaine, who was standing on the other side of the dresser, by the open door. Well, he certainly wasn't going to get changed with Blaine just standing there, looking at him. He was sure Blaine had seen it all— seen it _all_— before. But Kurt wasn't used to _anyone_ seeing, well, anything.

But Blaine, who seemed to pick up on everything without Kurt having to vocalize, shifted his weight, "I'll just get my stuff and sleep on couch."

"No, I'll sleep out there. I don't want to kick you out of your room," Kurt quickly protested.

"It's your room too," Blaine said. "And you just got out of the hospital, I am _not_ letting you sleep on the couch. It's comfortable, but not that comfortable…"

Kurt looked down at the carpet and clutched his pajamas tight to his chest. "Okay," he said in a whisper.

Blaine pulled a set of pjs out of the dresser drawer for himself and slowly closed the drawer. It was all so measured and precise. Not going too fast, but not taking up too much time. Meant to be calm, and, not to loud, and not show a hint of emotion.

His hand was on the doorknob and he was halfway out of the room, when he said, "Well, goodnight." Blaine then closed the door just as carefully as he had the drawer, and it clicked into place.

"Goodnight," Kurt said.

…

Kurt rolled over on the pillow, wide awake. The bed felt empty beside him. He had never shared a bed with someone in his life, and the bed felt empty. But he could only imagine how stiff and tense and still awake he would be if Blaine had been there, right next to him, resting his head on the other pillow.

God, Kurt didn't even know if he were on his side of the bed. Kurt laughed quite involuntarily. He turned his face into his pillow and pulled the comforter over his chin to muffle the noise. He had a side of the bed. Probably. His bed had always been all his, no sharing.

He was laughing again; they were the type of laughs that could turn into sobs, or already had, or maybe had been all along. As the slowed, he reached up and wiped away wetness from his cheeks.

Kurt had dealt with it all, because he had to. The evidence had been laid there before him, and he had lost ten years, truly and surely. So he dealt, because throwing a fit or breaking down or screaming at the insanity and the unfairness of it all wouldn't have done anything.

But now he would get up tomorrow and have to deal with it more. And the next day, and the next day, and the next, for some unforeseeable time until pieces of his memory would come back. Even then, it would be slow. Even then, not necessarily all of it. Even then, he would be left, struggling, now, feeling all lost and alone…and scared.

Kurt sniffled. He wanted is dad. It had been scratching at him, this knowledge, but he had kept quiet. He wanted his dad to hug him and tell him it would be all right. His dad who was apparently amazing with him being gay. His dad who was the only person he could remember putting real trust in (and Mercedes had only just begun edging her way in there).

But his dad wasn't here. Kurt didn't have a phone either and if he did, he wouldn't be sure if his father's phone number was even the same as it had been. To figure any of this out, Kurt would have to ask _Blaine._ But he was probably asleep and Kurt had already exiled him to the couch in true married couple form. And he didn't want Blaine to see that he had been (was) crying, because even if he tried to hide it, Blaine would know. He always knew. And Blaine would probably be all _let's talk about it_, but Kurt didn't want to talk about it. Not with _him._

Kurt gasped and it all sort of made sense now, the unease that seemed natural with the whole forgetting almost everything thing. To the Kurt that remembered, Blaine was probably a lot to him, if not everything. But to him, now, Blaine was nothing, as desperately as the guy was trying to be perfect. Blaine was a guy he had known two days now, and was expected to recuperate with, was expected to trust.

Kurt sat up sharply, grabbed the undisturbed pillow next to him and hurled it at the wall. It made a rather unsatisfying _thump_ and fell to the floor.

…

They were a sharp poke on his shoulder and Blaine groaned. There was another poke and he slit open his eyes. Kurt was squatted by the side of the couch.

"What time is it?" Blaine muttered.

"6:45," came Kurt's abrupt reply.

"Too early," Blaine moaned, and it really was. It had taken him awhile to fall asleep the night before. Ironically, it wasn't the couch that kept him up. Too much to think about. The night before he had been able to drop sleep because he had been awake almost 48 hours straight at Kurt's bedside. Now, Kurt was okay, but he also wasn't okay. Blaine didn't know how to fix this.

"I want to talk to my dad," Kurt said, but it was almost like a pronouncement, a demand.

Blaine rolled over, got his phone off the end table, and handed it to Kurt. "His number is saved."

Kurt took it, stood up, and started back to the bedroom. Blaine blinked at the ceiling. 6:45. "Time difference," Blaine called after Kurt.

"He won't care," Kurt said back, and the bedroom door shut loudly behind him. If Kurt didn't care about waking his dad up extremely early, it must have been serious.

…

"Kurt?" said the voice after a shaky hello. It was tired and worried and familiar. It was Dad.

"Hey," Kurt said and he was cradling the phone to his ear, like it would somehow bring him closer or give him comfort. Despite himself, he started getting weepy again.

"Are you okay?" It wasn't a rhetorical question, but it was something else than what it was, because Burt knew Kurt wasn't okay, and Kurt knew that ne knew. He was merely asking to give Kurt the leeway to say it.

"No," Kurt stuttered, wiping at his eyes. No one could see him and he was pretty sure his dad could hear everything in his voice, but he was almost embarrassed to be crying again. He wanted to be stronger than this. He had to be. That was why he hadn't indulged his emotions before, because he knew once he started letting himself feel miserable, it would be hard to stop.

"Hey, hey, buddy," Burt said because Kurt's breath already began to hitch. "Come on, just tell me what's wrong."

"I just…I just feel so lost, and— and confused," Kurt choked out.

"I know. I know."

"I want you to be here."

"Then I'll be there."

* * *

><p>Aki- Here we are. Some more Burt coming up, because he is awesome. I do not know when my next update will be because I am currently working on an update for my other Glee story. So once you see that story updated, you will know I am working on the next chapter of this. Thanks for reading.<p>

Also, to all my reviewers... I tend not to reply to all my reviews. I know some reviewers like that, some may not care. I usually only respond to ones that have questions or comments I want to address specifically. However, they are all read, appreciated, and cherished. Some, already, have been very helpful in my writing of the the story.

Review?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Blaine couldn't go back to sleep after Kurt awoke him, even if he was tired. He ended up sitting on the couch, staring at the bedroom door. He wanted to know what was happening inside there. He wanted to know what was happening inside Kurt's head. God, he wanted to know what was happening inside his own brain as well. His emotions were all over the place— scattered and undefined.

Two hours later, the bedroom door inched open. Blaine looked up to see Kurt walk out, still in his pajamas, hair looking like it had been tousled from sleep, but he had try to tame it with his fingers, eyes a little puffy. Kurt walked over to him, eyes downcast.

"Here," he said, holding out the phone. Blaine took it from his fingers. "My dad is coming. He'll be here in a few hours."

"Okay," Blaine said. Kurt crossed the rest of the room over to the bathroom.

Blaine could work with this. Kurt would be more comfortable around someone he remembered. Blaine probably shouldn't have insisted that Burt stay in Ohio when he first called to tell him about Kurt's accident. Blaine had been so distraught when he got contacted by the hospital that he hadn't been calm enough to contact anyone until after he had been assured that Kurt was stable, safe, and in a coma that would be temporary. With Kurt out of the picture for a moment, Blaine had to take up being the champion of pestering Burt about his health, how traveling and stressing and waiting at the hospital would not help Kurt and definitely not help Burt himself. Plus, wouldn't Kurt be so pissed when he woke up? That is better for all of us if he is not.

Then, of course, Kurt woke up and didn't remember. Maybe Blaine was a little selfish then, when he called to inform Burt of the new status in Kurt's health, he also said he shouldn't come. Blaine feared that Kurt, not remembering him at all, would slip away from him in these moments. That he wouldn't want to let go of the father that he trusted, or wouldn't give Blaine a chance. That, perhaps, even want to go back to Ohio, a state he hated, with the people he knew and loved, then stay in New York, in the city of his dreams, with a man he once knew and loved, but now was nothing more than a stranger to him.

But Burt was coming now. Kurt seemed to have settled in a little, so Blaine was pretty hopeful that he would end up staying here. Maybe this was the best timing for all of them.

The toilet flushed. The sink ran. The sink stopped. Kurt stepped out of the bathroom again, crossed the living room, and went straight back into the bedroom— closing the door behind him— without a word to Blaine.

"I'll make breakfast then," Blaine said to no one.

…

Blaine was just done gathering up his needed ingredients and piling them on the counter, when he heard a yelled, "Oh my God!"

He dashed out of the kitchen, across the living room, to the bedroom, which door he burst through without knocking to find—

Kurt, rather unharmed, standing before the thrown-wide-open closet doors.

Blaine let out a heavy breath. "What's wrong?"

"I have a whole new wardrobe… I didn't even think about it. Guess there is a bit of an upside to forgetting everything…surprise."

Blaine let out a desperate little chuckle. "I just should have showed you that when we first came here," Blaine muttered, mostly to himself, as he exited the bedroom.

…

Kurt emerged from the bedroom twenty minutes later, just as Blaine was finishing up an egg white omelet for him. Kurt stopped in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Morning," he said, a bit shy, like he had come to realize how he had been a bit rude earlier this morning. Not that Blaine begrudged him this.

"I made breakfast," Blaine said in reply, holding up a plate with eggs.

"Thank you," Kurt said, and then slipped onto a chair on the table.

Only after they began eating did Blaine glance up to see the outfit Kurt had chosen. He had taken twenty minutes to decide, which, actually, was rather short for him, considering, especially, that he had a whole new, unfamiliar, closet full of clothes.

Blaine ended up grinning at the outfit. He was wearing the blue jeans he had since high school (miraculously, really, but Kurt was always meticulous about keeping his clothes clean and in good shape), ones that they both favored, that had an artful snag on the thigh, along with a diagonally stripped shirt, and a red cardigan that Blaine was familiar with.

"That's my sweater," Blaine said casually. Kurt looked surprised.

"Sorry, I'll—" he started, hands going towards the buttons like he was going to take it off.

"No, no, it's fine," Blaine quickly interjected. "It's not like we don't share each other's clothes." _I like it when you wear my clothes,_ he thought, but didn't voice it.

…

Kurt was perched on the couch, fingers of his folded hands held to his lips, eyes closed— in an effort to be collected, not in sleep.

There was a loud knock on the front door that startled him out of his moment of zen. He looked over to see Blaine answering the door, and it was a relief like stepping into a hot shower after a bad day to see that it was his father. Kurt stood from his seat. He saw him and Blaine shaking hands and they were talking, but Kurt's head was buzzing too much to figure out what, probably small talk greetings.

But then Burt was moving past Blaine. Kurt took a step forward, and their wears tears already forming in his eyes in spite of himself, but before he could make another move, he was engulfed in a big bear hug. It was the safest he had felt since he had woken up in the hospital and learned it was 2019. The most at home. This was familiar, his dad and flannel shirts and the smell of motor oil he never completely got off of him.

Kurt didn't notice that Blaine had excused himself when Burt had come in with the alibi that he had to go grocery shopping.

…

"So, how much do you not remember?" Burt asked when they were both seated after Kurt had calmed down a bit. Blaine had told him about the amnesia, but he had been too flustered at the time to explain much.

"Everything since high school. The beginning of sophomore."

"That's a lot," Burt said. To Kurt, it was such a simple statement. Unneeded really, but Kurt appreciated it. The straightforwardness of acknowledging Kurt's distress.

"I know," Kurt replied. "I've forgotten so many important things. Your wedding. _My _wedding. Blaine completely. All of college. Most of high school. I—" He paused and glanced sideways at his father. He knew, logically, it would be alright, but it still teased him nervously in his gut. "I don't even remember coming out… to you."

"Oh, Kurt," Burt said, and put an arm around his son's shoulders. "You know I'll always love you, no matter what, right?"

Kurt nodded, and then asked quietly, "Tell me about it."

Burt began to relate the story, starting with him walking in on Kurt dancing to Beyonce in a unitard and sequins— Kurt groaned in embarrassment—, going through his stint on the football team, to the night after the game he won for them.

"And then you told me, and I said I knew."

Kurt sat up straight, "Wait, you knew?"

"You weren't exactly a… un-flamboyant child, Kurt. You wanted sensible heals for third birthday."

"Well, Mom had prettier shoes than me," Kurt quickly defended, then he fell a bit somber again. "I'm glad I didn't forget her."

"Me too, buddy."

The sat silently for a moment in an old grief.

"Dad, what do you think about Blaine?"

The older man was quiet for a moment. "What do you think about him?"

Kurt shrugged. He thought his dad was perhaps trying to gage him here, find out how he was coping, or somehow gear his answer to work with Kurt's, but Kurt didn't ask for the question to be played out that way. Plus, he wasn't really sure what he thought about Blaine from one moment to the next.

"He's good to you," Burt said slowly, carefully. "He loves you. There was never any doubt in my mind about that. You two met in high school, and those things don't usually last, but it did for you two, even the year you were separated because you were in college here and he was still finishing high school in Lima. I like having him as a son-in-law."

"You sound like a politician..."

Burt laughed, "That's another story for another time."

Kurt gave him a questioning look, but Burt ignored it. "Let me put it this way then. In my mind, no one will ever been good enough for my son, but Blaine is pretty close."

Kurt plopped back onto the headrest of the couch. "That's sounds like a ringing appraisal."

"You sound disappointed."

"If you didn't like him, even just a little bit, for the tiniest thing, I guess… I guess I was hoping for an excuse for feeling the uneasy way I feel around him."

"Uneasy? Do you…not like Blaine?" Burt was watching his son carefully.

"I suppose I would like him well enough if I met him under normal circumstances. He is rather…"

"Smile-y," Burt supplied. It almost made Kurt laugh and he wasn't completely sure that his dad wasn't trying to illicit that reaction on purpose.

"I was going to say charming… handsome." He glanced back at his father. For the life he could recall, he was always so carefully to not compliment men like that in front of his father, in front of anyone, only inside his head. It was comforting, now, to see his father have no reaction to it at all.

"But?" Burt prompted.

"But I met him under abnormal circumstances!" Kurt said, aghast. "In the middle of a relationship with him. In a marriage. In a life. But I don't know where I belong or what I am supposed to do. I don't know how to make him happy, and I don't know how to make me happy, expect to get better… to remember. But no matter how much I want it, I have no control over that."

Kurt let a big sigh. It was nice just getting that off his chest. It was nice having someone to talk to that he could trust.

"And," he added, more calm now, "I am expected to trust him, and rely on him, but I have no grounds for that. Sure, he's nothing but gracious and understanding, but that doesn't mean I can just put my whole life in his hands. He's still nothing but a nice acquaintance to me, a good host."

"Kurt, I don't have any answers for you," Burt said. "I could offer to take you back to Lima, but I think that would be running away from the problem. Of course," he added quickly, "You're always welcome there if you need it. I can tell you how much I approve of Blaine, tell you the stories I know about the two of you. But those would just be stories."

"I know there isn't an easy solution, I just…" _wish there was. _

"I told you that Blaine loved you, but I forgot to tell you something else. You love Blaine. And I don't think that is the type of thing that you can forgot, not completely. You'll find that out in time."

* * *

><p>Aki- My other story was kicking my ass, so I decided to come back and write this one because it is more fun and is easier to write. Hope you enjoy. More Burt next chapter.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"How you doing, kid?"

Blaine was about to reply with a _fine_ when Burt interrupted with:

"And don't think about lying to me."

Kurt decided on taking a nap after Blaine had gotten home from his three hour shopping trip with nary but one bag of groceries. It hadn't been an avoidance tactic; rather, he had been worn out from a fitful night of sleep the evening before and from all the emotions running through him.

Blaine took a moment to think about what he wanted to say. He trusted Burt, respected him, loved him. He had come to be more of a father to him than his own father was. But Kurt still was, and always would be, his son first.

"I'm… I'm dealing."

Burt caught him with a piercing gaze.

Blaine sighed, and backed up a step so he was leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. "There are moments I think that he is afraid of me, or maybe he's just pissed off and not saying it. He trusted me more the first day we met than he does now, and I don't know how to handle that."

"No one would know how to handle this, so I wouldn't beat yourself up over that detail."

Blaine leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, a blatant move to avoid eye contact. It was true, this wasn't something people prepped you for in relationships. He doubted there was a useful book in the library either. He guessed he was doing alright. Kurt was alive and marginally content. Well, at least he wasn't trying to run away, yet.

And there had been no screaming or broken plates between the two of them, which was something.

"You still haven't answered by question. How are _you_ doing?"

No one had asked him that yet. Sure, he had sequestered himself and Kurt off from the world for a little bit (this was, however, only their second day home from the hospital, and the first full day), but that was until they could get their feet under him. Kurt was still processing him. He didn't think it would be good to have hordes of visitors wandering in and out of the apartment.

But the act remained. People had asked him about Kurt in several phone conversations he had. Asked how he was fairing and adjusting. That hadn't asked Blaine. Why would they? He hadn't been in a car crash.

"I miss him," said Blaine and it first came out as a whisper. He lowered his head and leveled his eyes with Burt's. "I miss him," he said again, louder, "Even though he's right there. And it hurts."

Burt pulled him into a gruff hug and Blaine wasn't ashamed to admit that was something he really needed.

…

Dinner was easier that night. Both Blaine and Kurt had gotten some of their angst out and Burt put Kurt at ease. He was smiling a lot, laughed a few times, blushed red when his father started bringing up embarrassing stories from his childhood. Blaine had heard some of them before, but he didn't mind the repetition.

Although both Kurt and Blaine offered him the bed (there was an air mattress in the closet that one of the two of them could use in exile from the bedroom while the other got the couch), he denied them. He said he wasn't taking a proper bed from his just-out-of-the-hospital son and his old self couldn't take sleeping on a couch or air mattress, which were the alternatives.

"I will just go find a motel," he said, and when Kurt wasn't paying attention, Burt gave Blaine a significant look. He realized what it meant only after the man was out the door. It would be the first time Kurt and Blaine were alone since Burt had a chance to talk to both of them. While Blaine looked up to Burt, he didn't think he was a miracle worker. He imagined things would be the same between the two of them as they were before.

But it was something. At least, it was a testing ground before Burt left for good for a while. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day about (_Maybe with Kurt_, the scared voice in Blaine's head added).

Neither Blaine nor Kurt knew, as they stood in the living room a minute after Burt's departure, that he had told them the same things at the end of their conversations, told them, "Just give him a chance."

Kurt would damned if he didn't at least _try_ to follow his dad's advice a little. And maybe he thought about it when he was pretending to nap (well, he napped half the time, and half the time he just laid there in thought). He knew this had to be hard for Blaine too. Yes, Kurt was scared, but Blaine hadn't done anything to make him… a danger. And if Kurt were to listen to anyone's advice on it, it would be his Dad's.

That reason alone he wasn't running to hide in the bedroom again. This wouldn't get any better if he refused to spend any time with Blaine.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Do you want to get a movie on Netflix or something? I could popcorn."

"O-okay," Kurt stuttered out. That would be easy enough. If he couldn't just sit next to someone on the couch and stare at the screen then he had more issues than he believed. He took a perched seat on the couch and Blaine disappeared into the kitchen.

"But I only like kettle corn!" Kurt called after him.

Blaine's head popped through the doorway. "You think you'd let me stock any other kind?" he said with a sort of gleeful smirk.

Kurt couldn't help but laugh at that.

…

The bowl of popcorn had nothing but kernels in it an hour later. Kurt had his legs curled under him on the couch. Blaine had sat in the middle so they could easily share the bowl of kettle corn, so for once, as they sat, and there wasn't a giant gap between them. They were being pretty quiet, but it was okay. Watching a movie excused that, but Kurt always liked having someone to banter with during a film about the film.

Blaine shifted and out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw him stretching his arms above his head. When he put them down, one went on the back of the couch, behind where Kurt sat. Blaine hadn't even thought about it. It was just natural. He didn't mean anything presumptuous about it, Kurt knew, he wasn't even touching him, but if Kurt scooted back a few inches and leaned his head back…

Then he did it, and the back of his neck was sitting comfortably against the skin and curve of Blaine's arm. He kept his eyes resolutely forward, but he could sense Blaine's surprise.

He didn't know why he did it, but Kurt guessed he felt sorry for Blaine, once he was done feeling sorry for himself. Kurt wasn't the only one who had lost something in the accident. In many ways, Blaine had lost the ten years that Kurt had shared with him, although in a different. He had lost Kurt.

So he needed to give him something, something to show him that Kurt didn't hate him. Because he didn't. He felt many things about Blaine, but none of them were even close to hate.

When the screen went black between one scene and the next for a brief second, Blaine shifted again besides Kurt, and Kurt was momentarily afraid that he was going to pull away, be rejected, and Blaine would be Mr. Overly-Polite and do it on presumption of not trying to push Kurt. But he didn't. Rather, he curled his arm lower so it lay across his shoulders completely, and hand cupped Kurt's upper arm lightly. After a moment's hesitation Kurt leaned completely into, twisting his body slightly so that it was angled towards Blaine. They stayed like that.

It wasn't quite cuddling. There was still too much space between them for that, but it was nice. Kurt thought it was nice. The simple chasteness of the touch that was all too confirming of so many other things that he couldn't quite name or indentify. He felt safe here.

…

Kurt had fallen asleep in his arms. Well, on his arm. But he would go with in. It was close enough. Now that he was asleep, head lolled back, mouth open in a tiny _o_, and Blaine had the ability to stare at him a little bit without the other man noticing.

He would have to wake him up soon, but before then…

He tugged Kurt closed her and wrapped his other arm around him. He held Kurt to him, and buried his face in Kurt's hair. It was nice, having a moment to be close to him again. He loved Kurt so much. So much. This simple type of closeness had been lacking of late.

After a minute, he released him, and let him roll back onto the couch. He shook Kurt's shoulder and leaned in, probably more than necessary, but it was his time to be close to Kurt, but he wasn't going to give up the chance during the opportunity, and said, "Kurt, get up. You need to go to bed."

"I don't want to," Kurt mumbled into Blaine's shoulder, not even opening his eyes.

"Don't make me carry you," Blaine threatened with a smile.

"You wouldn't dare. You're shorter than me, I saw," Kurt said.

"Do you want to test me?"

Kurt peaked his eyes opened and looked up at Blaine. He must have realized how snuggly he was with Blaine, for he sat up kind of quick. Not too quick that it seemed like a jerk or that it was rude, but quicker than his previous lethargic behavior would seem natural.

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going…"

He stood and made his way to the bedroom. Blaine turned off the television and picked up the bowl of kernels to take to the kitchen.

"Blaine," a voice called out, interrupting his journey. He turned to see Kurt standing in the doorway of their bedroom, ringing his own hands. "Goodnight," he said, and it was soft and vulnerable and imbibed with something so real that Blaine was almost moved to tears by that single word.

"Goodnight, Kurt," he replied, and it was his way of saying _I love you._

* * *

><p><em><em>Aki- So, here is more Burt. And something good happening for Kurt and Blaine. Almost everyone in the reviews talks about how sad they feel for Blaine, so yeah, here are things improving a little bit. It is not going to get instantly better, this is the first of the baby steps toward it getting better.

Thank you all so much for your reviews, alerts, favorites, etc.! It makes me really happy. If you have any specific questions about the story, of course, feel free to drop them in a review and I will answer them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The next day spent with Burt was fun and relaxed, for all three of them.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Burt said to Kurt over the lunch table when Blaine had slipped away to go to the bathroom.

"Me too," Kurt said, then he pursed his lips for a moment before saying, "It's still not easy. I mean, everything still feels insurmountable—"

"God, kid, I don't even know what that word means," Burt briefly interrupted, making Kurt smile.

"Like there is a giant mountain in front me I don't think I could ever climb…, but then I kind of realized that I don't have to get over the mountain in one fell swoop. I can just start walking, and see where that gets me."

"Kid, you're probably the most resilient person I ever met. That's your mom in you."

Burt decided to leave in the mid-afternoon, so he had plenty of daylight to drive back home in. Before he left he gave each of the boys— and he considered Blaine, like he considered Finn, a son to him now— a strong-armed hug.

"Call me whenever you need," Burt said into Kurt's ear as they shared an embrace.

A moment later, to Blaine, and quieter, "Take care of him, and take care of yourself too."

…

Kurt shifted the weight between his feet. He knew he shouldn't hesitate to ask for anything, and least of all this. He knew Blaine would be enthusiastic.

So he just bit his bottom lip and then asked, "Can I, um, see some more pictures?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," he replied. "There are a lot saved on the computer, but I have we have a couple of books made up here." He went over to the bookshelf in the corner and kneeled down to be next to the bottom shelf to start tugging out a few different volumes.

"Did I take up scrap booking in the last ten years or is that all you?" Kurt asked as he watched at an ever growing pile of books on the carpet.

"Oh, yeah, that's me," Blaine said. "I love photographs. There is something magical about them. They can preserve so much. Y'know how they say a picture is worth a thousand words…"

"I've heard the phrase," Kurt snarked.

"Well, that's how I feel." Blaine returned to the shelf, and his hand found a thick book that looked more high quality than the others. An "oh" escaped Blaine's mouth.

"What?" Kurt asked, taking a step forward.

"Nothing… it's just—" his eyes were downcast, "This is our wedding album."

There was a pause in the room. There shouldn't have been.

"I want to see that one," Kurt whispered.

Blaine's eyes flickered up and met Kurt's. "Okay."

They settled on the couch and Blaine handed the album over to Kurt to hold in his lap. Kurt let his hand graze over the embroidered cover, before curling his finger over the edge and flipping it open.

He slowly flipped through the pages, all featuring pictures of the pre-wedding, getting-ready ordeals. His favorite was two pictures placed adjacent to each other: one of Kurt and of Blaine, both at a mirror, fussing over their hair. Blaine would throw in little comments of explanation and story: how, although they were living together at the time—though in a different apartment then— they spent the night before their wedding apart as per tradition, with Kurt in their apartment and Blaine at a friend's. Both of their wedding parties either stayed the night with them or joined them in the morning and they got ready.

Then they got pictures of the ceremony, and the posed ones were all similar to the one he had seen on the wall. But the ones from the actual ceremony, the ones that were candid, where they were facing each other, staring into each other's eyes— as they exchanged rings and said there vows. Even though they were pictures, an event he was experiencing secondhand, even though it happened in front of a crowd of others, it seemed like it was too intimate to look at. It was… odd… to see himself be so open and vulnerable and, he had to say it, in love.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," Blaine commented. He was leaned close to Kurt to look at the pages, his arm resting on the top of the couch like it had the night before.

"I can see that." It really was. "I wish I remembered it."

"I do to," Blaine said. Kurt turned his head and their eyes caught. They were sitting closer together than he realized. Kurt found that he didn't mind it.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. He didn't feel he had to elaborate. _I'm sorry I don't remember_.

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

They stayed like that for a little while, then Blaine dropped his hand and fingered he edge of the next page. "The reception is next."

Kurt stayed turning pages again, this time a tad bit faster, with less time spent pondering on each one. It didn't help that Blain had gone a bit quiet.

Kurt came to a page that had a single large photograph of the two of them dancing. They were standing flush up against each other. He could see that they both had one arm wrapped around the other's waist and their other hand were gripped together, fingers intertwined. They were literally dancing cheek to cheek, and Kurt could see in the picture that he was leaning his head slightly into Blaine's.

Kurt blinked heavily and felt that his eyes were wet. This was something, more than ceremony, and the suits, and even the ring on his left hand, that he wanted. The dance, the closeness, the obvious wonder of it. Perhaps he had tasted just a little of it last night as he leaned into Blaine's arm.

Blaine must have noticed, how long he stayed on that page, hand splayed out on the bottom, as though a small, physical way of forbidding the page from being turned, from Kurt being taken away from this realization, this feeling.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered into his ear. He wasn't close enough to touch, but enough that Kurt could feel his body heat on his skin. "Can I kiss you?"

Kurt gulped and stared down at the page for a little longer. Then he nodded. He turned to look at Blaine, hands still firmly on the album.

Blaine was staring at him, staring at him the same as Blaine had been staring at him at the picture of the ceremony, similar even to the way Blaine had stared at him when he woke up in the hospital a handful of days ago— with an intensity that was hard for Kurt to understand anyone directing at him. It was intoxicating, when he got over the tremor of insecurity going down his spine. Because how could he reciprocate it, and how did he deserve it?

Blaine pressed a palm to Kurt's cheek and tilted his head, just lightly, to the correct angle. And then he was in. Lips again lips. Kurt wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, but his body seemed react without him having to decide, because he was reciprocating, pressing back against Blaine, reaching his own hand up to curve around the back of Blaine's neck.

After a while, Kurt couldn't be sure how long, they pulled apart. Blaine's hand fell away, and Kurt's trailed along the side of his neck. Blaine took it in his own and lifted it to his mouth to lay a soft kiss to the center of his palm.

Kurt stared, and he could feel how wide his eyes were. He had just had his first kiss. Well, not, really, but the first one he remembered. With Blaine, this guy who was so handsome, who stared at him, who married him, who loved him.

Kurt wished that was enough. Enough to fix him like this was fairy tale or a Disney movie. Just a kiss to wake his memories up. It wasn't. It was something, though. Something good.

* * *

><p>Aki- So, this is my shortest chapter so far in this story, but Burt took up less page space then I thought he would (he pretty much did what he needed to do already). I imagine you won't mind the shortness due to the content of the chapter, so... yeah, I was going to hold off on the kiss longer, but I thought it needed to happen already once I started writing. I mean, they still have a far way to go, regardless. Hope you enjoyed. Already started on the next chapter, so I should update soon-ish. Thank you for all your reviews... review some more?<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"I really have to go back to work soon," Blaine commented casually later that evening. They had spent their time flipping through the rest of the photo albums. Blaine had been hoping that something would jog even the smallest of memories in Kurt, but so far, no luck. Although every so often, Kurt would come to a page, cock his head to the side, and stare at it like he was trying to catch the wisp of something else.

"What do you do?" Kurt asked, as he flipped another page.

"I'm a music teacher at this sort of magnet middle school for the arts."

"Oh, wow, that's good, right? I mean, do you like being a teacher? It's something I respect, but I don't know if you do or… I'm going to stopped rambling now."

Blaine chuckled. "I really like it. I love music so much that I think having a career where I can help spread that joy and appreciation is just the best thing ever."

Kurt nodded in approval. "Guess you never wanted to be anything else then?"

"Well, my dad wanted me to be a lawyer. But he also wanted me to be straight, so…" Blaine cut off there. It was never exactly his plan to hide his family issues from Kurt now, but he wasn't sure it would be right to lay all his unresolved issues on him when he was dealing with a much bigger, immediate burden. "My sub must be going mad. I mean, I didn't have a chance to leave any clear lesson plans… and now that you are on the mend."

"You can leave me here alone. I understand."

"I never did give you a proper tour," Blaine said, after another quiet moment when Kurt had went back to another photo album. "I mean, you know where all the rooms are, but not the utensil drawer."

"That's true."

"I don't want leave you home if can't even eat, y'know, because you can't find a fork…"

Kurt laughed. "That would be troublesome."

"Come on, put that down, and I will show you all the ins and outs of this joint."

Kurt laughed again, but I think there was something about Blaine's infectious grin at this point, or the way he was choosing his words, or even how he leaned down to gently tug the album out of Kurt's grip, set it aside, and gripped Kurt's hand. He pulled him up off the couch and tugged him into the kitchen and began listing everything that was in each drawer and cabinet. They skipped the bathroom, because Kurt already discovered where everything was there on his own.

"Back in the living room," Blaine announced, pulled Kurt back in, "We have all our movies here," he indicated to a cabinet under the television. "In alphabetical order. We used to have it by genre too, but we decided that was too complicated with so many that cross genre… like _Inception._ It is sci-fi? Action? Psychological?"

"What's _Inception?_"asked Kurt with a little crinkled up nose that Blaine thought was adorable.

"You're going to have to watch that."

"Maybe we could have another movie night tonight?" Kurt asked.

"It's a plan." Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand to emphasis in the point. "Bookshelf," he said, his attention averted again, "Is sorted by theme… Bottom shelf, obviously, photo albums, and our favorite _Vogue_ issues. Then is the _Harry Potter _shelf—"

"Why do we have three different sets?" Kurt asked.

"I—ah— really like _Harry Potter._"

"At least I remember the ending to _that_. Don't remember the last couple movies though…"

"Next shelf is textbooks from college we kept for some reason or the other, then our classics, novels, and autobiographies, top is sheet music and other music books."

He pulled Kurt into the bedroom next. "I think you figured out the clothing enough. Like I said, we share sometimes. If you put anything on and it's a few inches too short, then it's mine."

"You are pretty short," Kurt commented with a touch of smirk.

"There's my snarky Kurt."

Kurt lowered his head and up through his eyelashes and said in that slightly deeper, coy tone, "I wasn't aware I ever left."

Blaine pressed his lips together and just looked at Kurt for a moment. Kurt was pretty sure that he had turned Blaine on. It wasn't a bad thing, being wanted _like that._ Although Kurt was sure he wasn't ready for the _that_.

He bit back a grin and said, "And the rest of the tour Mr. Hummel-Anderson."

Blaine coughed and tore his eyes away from Kurt. "Right, well, the desk over here. We've got our laptop— yes, were sharing one at the moment to save money for a bigger place because,…well, that's story for another time."

"I feel like I'm collecting those," Kurt muttered, thinking back on his dad's joke about politicians, about Blaine saying something about transferring schools, about his dad, and Blaine mentioning that they, Kurt and Blaine, had had a fight. Now this. If he thought his dad and Blaine were ill-intentioned, he might have thought they were trying to hide things from him.

Blaine might not have heard him, or perhaps he did and ignored him, because he just continued with barely a stutter, "Well, there are probably a million get well messages on facebook waiting for you."

"I can facebook stalk everyone on my friends list and that is as good as remembering."

"It's pretty close," Blaine joked.

Kurt sat down on the foot of the bed, looked up at Blaine, and asked, "Blaine, what do I do…for like, a job?... I feel silly that I didn't ask before. I guess I was just so overwhelmed…"

"I should've said something. I felt like I've been hiding you away from, but I didn't want to dump too much on you too fast…"

"I feel like I'm about to hear bad news, like I'm 'between jobs' and have been for a year or something."

"Nothing like that. Actually, it's kind of awesome."

"Ooo, do tell," Kurt said, leaning forward.

"Within the last half of the year, you and two of your friends just launched your fashion magazine."

"What?" Kurt asked, because it sounded really cool, and it sounded like him, but it wasn't something he had ever considered doing. Sure he had his own opinions on the topic, he just never had anyone to share them with before.

"Did I give up on the whole Broadway thing...?" That was his dream, after all, as he could remember. To be one that stage, perform before an audience that was glad to see him. Sure, he knew it was a tough dream, hard to achieve, slim chances, but still.

"Not give up, per se," Blaine said, sitting down next to him. "I mean, you've done theater here. Some college productions when you were still a student. Some Off Broadway and some off off Broadway, but when the three of you decided to put that performing aside, for a time, to work on this. I believe, at the time, you told me you wanted something more concrete to show for your efforts."

"Okay, I can live with that. I can more than live with that. It doesn't sound like a bad life at all."

"I hope not," Blaine said, and there was something a little rough— husky, Kurt guessed might be the better word— about how he said it. Maybe it was vulnerable. Blaine, save for the few moments Kurt would catch his smile faltering or him looking sad when he thought Kurt couldn't see him, had been the perfect shell of calmness, stability, dealing with this all so Kurt could deal with it.

"What about you?" Kurt asked. "Are you happy with your life?"

"Of course," Blaine said, without a moment's hesitation. Kurt liked that, because he was a part o that life, and Blaine hadn't even had to think about it.

"But really, you've been so good… with me. How're you dealing with all of this?"

"I'm fine."

Kurt knew, of course, from context that this was lying, but he surprised himself by picking it up from the tone of Blaine's voice. Moments before it had been open and deep, not it was closed up, too tight, and not right.

"Do you really want to have me have to tell you to tell the truth?" Kurt asked with a pointed eyebrow.

"I just don't want to burden you with anything when you are already going through—"

"And you're _not_ going through anything hard at the moment?" Kurt said, voice raised a decimal higher. He quickly and fluidly stood from the bed and twirled around to face Blaine. "You're partner just got in a car accident and forgot you, I'm pretty sure that is a stressful situation."

"Kurt," Blaine tried to intercede quietly.

"No, don't _Kurt_ me," Kurt snapped. "You need to cut this self-sacrificing hero crap out and remember that I'm still a functional human being that can help you—mmmph." Blaine had just stood up, grabbed Kurt's face, and pressed their mouths together.

After about half a minute, Kurt pulled away and said, "You can't just kiss me to make me shut up, you know."

"But it's always worked before," Blaine teased. He was resting his forehead against Kurt's and Kurt had, at some point, put his arms loosely around Blaine's shoulders. They stood that way, strangely comfortably close, silent, for a time.

"I hate that you forgot me," Blaine whispered. "I know it's doesn't mean anything, really, but I still can't help but have a small part of myself think that it reflects, somehow, back on me. "

"It doesn't."

"I said I couldn't help it," Blaine retorted. "I wish you would remember," Blaine said, even quieter than before, and Kurt could just hear him, "because I miss you… the you that knows what we are. But even if you never remember… I love you."

* * *

><p>Aki- I wrote half the chapter and then got uninspired. I finally got inspired today and finished it. Also, I couldn't figure out what I wanted Kurt to do for a job. I wanted them both to be successful in their own way, that being, happy with what they were doing, without being, like famous or whatever.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"I like your little music note bowtie," Kurt commented, when Blaine exited the bedroom in his full teacher garb.

Blaine glanced down at it. "A student gave it to me my first year teaching. I'm rather fond of it."

"It's cute," Kurt said, taking a step forward and reaching out to tug it straight. "Tacky, but cute."

"Admit it, you love it. You wish you owned one."

"Never."

"Okay, well, I left my cell for you on the coffee table. Just call the school if need me fore anything, and I mean _anything—"_

"I get it, Blaine."

"The number is in there. Really got to get around to buying you that replacement."

Blaine released a heavy breath. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't like Kurt was a child. "I will see you at five," Blaine started, but Kurt interrupted.

"If traffic is good. I know. You've told me a hundred times," Kurt said, and he sounded only mildly irritated, but mostly amused.

"Well, make this a hundred and one."

Kurt walked Blaine to the door, and as Blaine was half out, he turned back and opened his mouth to say one last thing. That, however, was when Kurt leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Have a nice day," Kurt sing-songed.

Blaine promptly forgot what was on his mind. He thought about it on the drive to school. A kiss on the cheek was really an innocent gesture, but Blaine couldn't help but read miles into it. Sure, it wasn't a kiss on the mouth, but it was still a kiss that Kurt had initiated.

He was a little relieved when he arrive at the school, because this part was something he could handled.

…

Kurt was surprised by how lonely he was. He hadn't expected it within the first half hour to hit him. He was used to being a private person, but this was just…

He missed Blaine. He already missed Blaine and wanted him back here, with him, because he wasn't alright here, by himself. This apartment, which, when he had first stepped through the front door after he was released from the hospital, was foreign and threatening, had become his safe haven. Outside the front door was a world he didn't remember. Years he didn't remember. In here, he was safely sectioned off, but by himself. It felt claustrophobic.

He wasn't going to call Blaine, though, even though he surely would count this as one of his _anythings_. Kurt was a big boy, and he wasn't going to be crippled by some separation anxiety like he was a kindergartener on his first day of school.

...

The hallway was a swarm of munchkins (his affectionate name for his students that he only used in his head or around Kurt) decked out in white and navy. Kurt had cringed in horror the first time he had visited, and Blaine had to convince not to approach the principle— Blaine's boss— about restyling the uniforms.

He went directly to his classroom so he had as much time before class began to short through the mess the sub most likely left behind.

Thankfully, the room had been left tidy and the paperwork seemed in order, even if with his about week off it meant he had a lot of figuring out where the students were and where he had to catch them up to if he wanted to get back on time with the syllabus.

"Hey, Mr. H! You're back." The nickname was another thing he had gained his first year of teaching. Mr. Hummel-Anderson was quiet the mouthful of a name with five syllabus, not counting the _mister._ Yet, Blaine felt weird if he should pick one last name to use "professionally" over the other. Students came up without his consent, but he definitely approved. It was nice, though, too, that it ended up being an H rather than an A, because Blaine had been Blaine Anderson. Now it was Hummel-Anderson, and Mr. H reminded him of that.

"Hey, Derek, were you good for the sub while I was gone?" Blaine asked the student, a rambunctious seventh grader he was rather fond of. Well, he was fond of all his pupils, but he was kind of a softy like that.

"Of course," he said, but Blaine didn't completely believe it. Derek was a good kid, mostly. He just had a lot of things to say and not a lot of filter.

"Did you keep up with your practice?"

"Yes, Mom," the boy moaned. Blaine gave him a look. He cleared his throat and fixed, "I mean, Mr. H."

…

Kurt flipped through the channels on the TV, and somehow landed on TLC again, like he had the first day back. Most of the shows were different than the ones he remembered except for the ones that could last a long time, because of the endless stories feed to them: True Crime, Fantastic Cakes, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. Thank God it seemed that that nauseating kiddy pageant show was off the air.

There were no reruns, though. That was one upside of amnesia. That was little consolation when the same annoying car commercial came on every other commercial break with a horrible, catchy pop song playing in the background.

Kurt picked up the remote and turned off the TV. He needed something to do.

…

Blaine was glad when lunch arrived. He loved his job, but every once and a while, you need a break from all the kids after a while, either to be by yourself or to talk to adult teachers.

"Hey, Blaine, it's good to see your back," a voice from behind him said, where he sat at a table in the teacher's lounge. Thankfully, his first day back, he didn't have lunchroom duty.

A set of wiry arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. Unable to reciprocate the hug, he patted he hands folded on his chest. Amanda unwrapped from him a moment later, and tugged a chair around the table so she could sit almost flush right next to him. She was affectionate like that with her close friends, which Blaine had become. She taught some of the visual arts classes, couldn't sing on tune for the life of her, and was Blaine's closest friend amongst his coworkers. A few more observant students and newer faculty had mistaken the two of them as a couple, not knowing Blaine was gay and happily married and Amanda was happily single.

"How's Kurt?" she asked, not touching her brown paper lunch bag, but giving all her attention to him.

"On the mend, but…" he shrugged one shoulder. Everyone at work knew about the car accident and the coma, but he hadn't shared the amnesia thing. It was just a little too private for the general public, but Amanda was someone he could trust. "Well, Kurt's mostly okay, right. No broken bones, but…" He just needed to say it. "He has amnesia."

"Oh my God," Amanda whispered, and there was a slightly horrified look on her face. That was one of the reasons he liked Amanda so much, because she never took on anyone's gossip like it was a soap opera or traded it like she was a tabloid. Everything was in confidence. "Wha— what did he forget?" she asked, rubbing his arm in a soothing way.

"Everything back to the middle of high school… including me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Blaine." She reached out, and grabbed his hand that was on the table. "I can't even imagine, and it must be even worse, because you guys were," she cut off, looking rather embarrassed. "God, me and my big mouth. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, actually, I wanted…kind of, because you know we were keeping it up wraps…didn't tell a lot of people… and I haven't had anyone to talk to about it."

"So…you _do_ want to talk about it?"

"Yes, just not here. Too many people…"

"Okay. Come to my classroom after the kids leave."

…

Kurt heated up some leftovers for lunch, and then pursued the rest of the kitchen. Maybe he could make dinner for when Blaine got home. It would at least give him something to do with his hands.

He found some skinless chicken breasts in the freezer and what seemed to be most of the ingredients for some sesame orange kitchen. In his memory, he had tried making it the first time just two weeks ago, proud that he was able to make a chicken his dad liked that _wasn't _fried. So, the recipe was fresh in his memory. He always made sure to practically memorize a recipe before he made it, in order to speed up the process and stop mistakes.

Kurt went through all cabinets on the wall and drawers in the refrigerator, pulling out the things he would need. He had everything but sesame oil. Well, there was a sesame oil bottle, but it was empty, which was rather irresponsible for whoever put it back in the cabinet that way. He secretly blamed Blaine, even though he didn't have a memory to support it.

So, he could try to figure out something else to make with what was here, or he could go out to the store. He didn't know where a store was, but he was sure he could figure it out.

Suddenly, he felt like taking an adventure. The school day had yet to end; he could make it on time.

…

Kurt had been careful when he left, checking to make sure he had Blaine's phone, the apartment keys, some extra cash on him. He had carefully remembered the blocks he passed, the turns he made, and even found a little basement level grocery that sold what he needed.

Maybe it had been stupid to wander out, he thought now. Maybe his short-term memory, either from age or the accident, was not what it used to be. Maybe it was him being overwhelmed by the sights of the city for the first time. It was definitely him being so excited to go out that he didn't think to make sure to know the address of the apartment building on the name of his street. He couldn't even get a cab home without that information.

But perhaps he could get a cab elsewhere.

…

Blaine slipped down to Amanda's room as the students were rushing around the hallways, getting there stuff out of there lockers so they could come home. Blaine would have loved to go to a school like this when he was that young. This whole school was such a warm, nurturing environment, or at least, he hoped they were warm and nurturing for the students. It was pretty opposite from his middle school experience, but the less dwelling on that the better.

She was twittering around, cleaning up bottles of paint, when he entered. She had a sixth sense for that kind of thing— and even though she was across the room and couldn't have possibly heard him with all the noise the students were making in the hallway— she stopped, turned around, and smiled tentatively at him.

Amanda sat down on a stool and indicated to Blaine to sit down on one next to her.

"So," she said, and rubbed her hands on her knees.

"I guess we'll just have to put it off… until he remembers."

"For someone who came here to talk about something, it seems like you've already made your decision."

Blaine glanced over at her and sighed. "I supposed I just want to hear you agree with me."

"I don't," Amanda said and made a little 'sorry, but it's true' look when he shot her a look.

"What do you think I should do then? Have us go through with it even though Kurt doesn't remember he wants it happen just as much as me?"

"No, I think you should talk with Kurt about it."

"And lay that stress…and guilt on him. He's going through enough," Blaine shot back.

"So are you." Amanda gripped the fabric of his sleeve to cheep him from turning away from her. It was a symbolic gesture, really, as he could pull out of it with ease. He wouldn't though. He was too much of a gentleman, and it took him getting a lot angrier than some earnest advice would make him.

Blaine hung his head back and eyed the ceiling tiles. "You're right. I know your right. That's why I talk to you."

"Because I'm always right?"

"Because you say the things that I _know_ are the right things to do, but won't admit it."

"Well," Amanda said with a shrug, "I do what I can." Then after a pause, "So, you're going to tell him about the…"

Blaine wondered why she didn't say it, probably because she didn't want to say it first, but somehow it made it more taboo. Of course, it was a hard thing to say. To tell Kurt that before the accident, they had been planning to turn the two of them into three of them. Kurt was still getting used to them being a married couple, how could be tell him they had planned to start a family?

"Yes… not tonight, but soon. When the appropriate moment arises."

…

The students were gushing out of the front door when Kurt was dropped off. He paid the cabbie and wadded through the masses. He waited to the side of the steps leading down from the front door, hoping that he didn't look like a creeper standing there.

He really didn't want to wander into the school building and miss Blaine, so he figured he would stay here in the parking lot where it would be inevitable that he see him. He took a seat on the cement steps and waited.

…

When Blaine walked out the school building, deep in thought, he paused the second after he stepped out of the doors. He would recognize that back of a head any day. He just couldn't make up a reason as to why he was there. Kurt must have heard the doors close behind him, because he peaked over his shoulder to see who it was then turned around fully when he saw it was Blaine.

"Surprise," Kurt said with that awkward smile of his and Blaine knew there was a story behind this.

"Hey," Blaine said, and he sounded confused, which, of course, he was. He trotted down a few steps and took a seat next to Kurt."So," he said, nudging him lightly with his shoulder. "Whatcha doing here?"

"I got lost," Kurt said, but he made a little face that made it like it was embarrassing but not big deal. Like he had broken a dish or something.

"You got lost?" Blaine repeated. "In— in the city?"

"I needed sesame oil," Kurt held up a fist that held some sort of bottle wrapped in a plastic bag. "After I got it, I couldn't find my way back."

"Why?"

"To make dinner."

"You could've called."

"I know, but I figured after I made such a fool of myself, I might as well go all the way, and…" he made a jazz hand with his free hand. "Surprise."

Blaine forced down the worry that was bubbling in his gut. Things could have gone so much worse. He could only imagine going back to his home and Kurt not being there and Blaine not knowing where he was. He had almost lost Kurt with the car accident; he couldn't face that again, especially not so soon. There was a part of him wanted to scold Kurt for such a dangerous act, but he knew that was wrong. Kurt, despite everything, was an adult, and Blaine knew that, and had to treat him like that. He really had been sheltering him too much from his own life.

So, instead, he picked his secondary reaction, which was to curve a finger along the edge of Kurt's jaw, tilt his head, and go in for a quick kiss.

"You're crazy," he whispered he moment they pulled apart, resting his forehead against Kurt's.

"You love it," Kurt said with a hint of a smirk. It was obviously leading.

"I do."

Sitting there in that moment, it reminded Blaine of the first days of the first days of knowing Kurt, sitting on the cement steps of the school, Kurt confiding in him about losing his first kiss. He really wished that Kurt had flashed back to that moment, too, but it didn't seem that he had.

"Come on," Blaine said, standing and holding out a hand or Kurt, "We'll stop by the store to buy you a new phone."

…

Later that evening, Kurt had a new phone and they were both happily fed with the dinner Kurt had made for them to share. It was late, and they were getting ready for bed, taking turns to change in the bedroom.

"Well," Blaine said, coming out of the bedroom dressed. Kurt was waiting on the other side of the door. "Goodnight."

He went to go past Kurt, but Kurt stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Sleep in the bed tonight," Kurt blurted.

"I told you before, I'm not taking the bed from you."

"No," Kurt said on barely a breath. "I mean, sleep in the bed with me."

Blaine opened his mouth to ask 'are you sure?' then shut it again, because he shouldn't be undermining Kurt's decisions. He wouldn't have said it if he wasn't sure.

"Okay," Blaine said.

Kurt reached down and took his hand and led him into the bedroom. Blaine pulled back the covers for Kurt, who got in and slid over to the far side of the bed. Blaine got in after him and turned off the lamp, making the room fall dark.

Kurt was already curled up sideways, back to Blaine. Blaine moved closer and spooned up against him, slowly putting his arm around Kurt's waist.

"Is this okay?" he asked in a whisper.

A moment, then, "Yes."

Blaine let his body relax fully, and having Kurt so close to him again, feeling his body warmth against him, both hearing and feeling his breathing. He would have wanted to stay up and enjoy it all, but he fit in here so well, he fell asleep in a blink.

* * *

><p>Author notes: PLEASE READ<p>

This chapter kind of kicked my butt, so that is why it has taken so long to come out. However, it ist he longest chapter yet, so hopefully that helps make up for the wait.

Speaking of waiting, chapters will take longer to be updated now or I am back in school. I am a senior in college, and am taking a creative writing independent study in which I have to write a story every two weeks, so that will be taking up much of my time. Regardless, I will finish this story eventually, so no matter how long it takes me, this story will continue.

To all my reviewers. I love you all so much. Last chapter I got past one hundred reviews. You all are so supportive and wonderful and uplifting. I adore you so much, you have no idea. I just got to say it.

This is my tumblr account. I am relatively new to it. I only have two followers. It's depressing.

.com


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

When Kurt awoke the next morning, it took him a few moments to recognize what the warmth next to him was. He blinked open his eyes, titled his head to the side where it lay on Blaine's arm, to look at the man next to him. His hair was tousled and his mouth had fell open as he slept. It wasn't the most attractive position, but it was adorkable.

God, now he was using words like adorkable in his head. Kurt shifted to get out of bed, but it seemed that slight movement in the mattress caused Blaine to stir.

"No," Blaine whined, and suddenly rolled on his side and threw his free arm around Kurt, snuggling in close.

Kurt stiffened for a moment before chuckling. Blaine, who had been all polite and reserved and calculating before he did everything, in this little moment when he wasn't quite awake, had forgotten to be.

"What?" Blaine mumbled into Kurt's shoulder, where his face was currently buried.

"You're a cuddler," Kurt said.

Blaine just nodded into his shoulder. Kurt shifted in the other man's hold to face him. He lifted a hand, and then, pausing just for a second, brushed a few curls off of Blaine's forehead. Kurt settled down into the pillows and in the warmth that seeped off of Blaine.

"I don't want to go to work," Blaine said.

Kurt patted him on the arm. "Sorry."

Blaine blinked languidly as he slowly came more into the world of the conscious. "This weekend," he said, trailing fingertips lightly up and down Kurt's arm, "I am going to take you anywhere in New York you want to go. Central Park, Times Square, Broadway… even if they are crowded with tourists. Then, I am going to show you all our special little spots all over. Our favorite little coffee shop, this wonderful whole-in-the-wall used bookstore, the hall where we got married… everywhere." Blaine finished his speech by pressing a soft kiss to Kurt's exposed neck. A shiver ran down Kurt's spine. That was somehow much more intimate than a kiss on the lips had been.

Blaine pushed off the bed to sit. Kurt just stayed laying down, staring up at him. "But I do have to go to work today, unfortunately." He got out of bed and started rummaging through his dresser and then closet to pick out his outfit for the day. He must not have been thinking about it, because Blaine then tugged his shirt over his head and off and Kurt got a view of Blaine's muscled back. And well, Kurt hadn't realized until that point that shoulder blades could be so sexy.

Kurt made a little noise, completely involuntary. If he were honest with himself, he would call it a squeak, which it was, but being honest with himself made it more embarrassing then it already was.

Blaine turned around at the sound, and that made Kurt go red, because the shirtless view from the front was worse. And by worse, he meant better. There were abs. Kurt knew, knew, that Blaine was good-looking. Handsome, perhaps, was the best word he would have used. But now… Blaine was downright, mouth-watering sexy. And Kurt was sort of getting turned on.

"I'll go change in the bathroom," Blaine said.

"No. It's fine," Kurt said, voice more high-pitched than normal, scrambling off the bed. "I need to use the bathroom anyway." He was out the door and slamming it behind himself. It wasn't strictly a lie. He did need to take a shower, of the cold variety.

…

After Blaine left for work, Kurt was set about contemplating something he thought about before, but this time from a different angle: sex.

He knew Blaine and he had done it. It had worried him before, the expectation of it being there in their married life. Those worries, it appeared, had been unfounded as Blaine had been the epitome of a gentleman. Now Kurt was thinking sex with Blaine wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. The guy was smoking.

That was where things got complicated, because even though he wasn't a virgin physically, he was emotionally and mentally. He didn't remember having sex. He only knew the bare mechanics of it, and he had always been too embarrassed by sex to search any further. Typing 'gay sex' into the Google search bar ended up with a lot of links to porn.

It also wasn't that he was ready to have sex like tonight, but that it was something that he wouldn't be objected to happening in the relative future. It was an odd sort of trust that he had in Blaine, because he knew he couldn't see himself having sex outside of a trusted relationship. He had known Blaine for like a week, although he knew it was longer, further back in his head, wherever his proper memories were hiding.

It was all rather confusing, and he needed someone to talk about it. He couldn't talk to Blaine about it, because Blaine was the problem. He couldn't talk to Dad, because he never, ever wanted to talk to his dad about sex ever.

Kurt leaned forward off the coach where he sat and reached for the cell phone he had received yesterday that had all the phone numbers he had ever had imported onto it. He started flicking through the phone book at all the friends he remembered having and all the ones he didn't. Even the ones he remembered, however, like Mercedes and Tina, he didn't know where they stood now. Obviously, they were friends enough to still be in contact, but for all he knew, they could be on the other side of the world.

Of course, there was one person he didn't remember being friends with who insisted they were. Rachel. Sure, he had little tolerance for her last time he remembered, but supposedly they became very close.

He hit the call button and waited. It was answered on the first ring.

"Kurt!" a voice shrieked out with exuberance.

"Rachel," Kurt replied, considerably less enthusiastic.

"Oh, Kurt, I've missed you so much," she said. "And Blaine too, of course. I've wanted to come over so many times, but I decided to give you some space, like my life coach recommended."

"That's…nice. Actually, Rachel, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Perfect! I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Be here?" Kurt started to say, but Rachel had already hung up before he could finish his question.

Exactly 18 minutes later, there was banging on the front door. Kurt opened it to find Rachel standing there with a giant purse over one shoulder that seemed to be wearing her down, if her hunch was any indication, and a large bottle of red wine in one hand.

Right about then, Rachel launched herself at him and wrapped him in a hug. "I knew you would remember me!"

She let go, and beamed up at him. He had never felt bad for Rachel Berry in his life, but he felt bad now, having to crush her spirit.

"Actually," he said, reaching behind her to shut the door. "I haven't remembered anything." Her smile faded. "But," he added quickly, "I needed a friend."

Rachel nodded sagely. "I understand. I am a rather soothing presence."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing. Rachel swept past him into the living room, dropping her bag onto the coffee table.

"I brought DVDs. _Les Mis_ if we feel like being sad and _Hairspray_ if we want something lighthearted. Also, my jammies and a change of clothes in case this turns into a full-ledged sleepover. And the wine, of course."

Rachel disappeared into the kitchen and a moment later emerged with two wine glasses and a corkscrew. It was then that it hit Kurt how large part of his life Rachel must have become over the ten years that he didn't remember. It didn't surprise him that she was comfortable enough to go get things out of his kitchen— Rachel was rather mannerless— but that she knew where everything was in less than a minute.

"So," Rachel continued, opening the bottle wine and pouring it. "What did you want to talk about?"

Kurt took a seat on the couch next to Rachel and took the glass she was offering to him. He felt inexplicably grown up at the gesture.

"Blaine," Kurt said. "And y'know…" he shrugged. Did he really think he could talk to _Rachel Berry_ about sex? Why was he even thinking about sex to begin with? He hadn't known, or re-known, Blaine long enough to feel…comfortable. He was hardly comfortable in his own skin and moving around day to day. Just sleeping, literally sleeping, with Blaine had been a huge step forward for Kurt.

"I don't know," Kurt said, and he took a sip of wine.

Rachel patted his knee. "I can't imagine how hard this is… I would suggest singing about our feelings, but I learned over the years that is not always the best way to deal with real life issues… I mean, it still has it cathartic benefits, but breaking into emotional ballads only goes so far."

Kurt just stared at her.

"I do have a number prepared, however, if you change your mind." Rachel said completely earnest.

"No, no, that's fine," Kurt said. Last he recalled, Rachel was a bit of a spotlight hog and he was pretty sure her belting out some notes would not be beneficial for his mental health.

Kurt drained his glass with two gulps. He wasn't used to drinking wine, but he could get used to it. "Tell me something about Blaine," Kurt said.

"What do you want to know?" Rachel said, twirling the wine in her glass.

Kurt leaned over the coffee table to refill his. "Anything. Something Blaine wouldn't tell me."

Rachel "hmmmed" for a moment in thought. "You and Blaine lost your virginities to each other the same night I lost mine to Finn."

Kurt groaned. How had Rachel gotten onto the same subject he had called her here for and then chickened out on was just stunning in the most sarcastic way possible. "That's awkward."

"Sex isn't awkward. Well, maybe when you are a teenager when you're just figuring it out. But it's natural. And wonderful. And fun."

"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt said, cutting her off with his tone.

Rachel huffed, but silenced. Kurt nursed his drink for a bit in the quiet. "Actually,… I saw Blaine shirtless for the first time this morning."

Rachel nodded appreciatively. "That's a nice view."

Kurt shot Rachel a look.

"What?" she said, "We've all been swimming together. And looking doesn't hurt anyone. You're not too bad yourself, either." Rachel leaned forward and lightly pinched his side through his shirt. Kurt glanced down and remembered that he had some abs now. It was weird, forgetting that his looks had changed. His mental image of himself hadn't quite caught up with this new reality.

"Anyway, I saw Blaine shirtless and it really turned me on," Kurt managed to say, although he couldn't look Rachel in the eyes as he did so.

"And?"

"So, how do I deal with that?...Sex?"

"You're asking me for sex advice?" Rachel seemed rather pleased.

"No, I just… maybe…well, the two of us have… done it."

"Obviously."

Kurt finished his second glass of wine and banged the glass down on the coffee table a little too loudly. "So what does that mean now? Like, what if Blaine wants to have sex? I'm not ready. I mean, he's great, and hot, and whatever, but…like, as far as I remember I was single a week ago. I wasn't even out."

Rachel set down her half-emptied glass. "Okay, first of all, Blaine is completely dapper. He's probably not even going to think about sex for like weeks because of your fragile state."

Kurt glared at the whole _fragile_ thing. Rachel was oblivious.

"So you have nothing to worry about," Rachel concluded.

"But… what about if I want to have sex with him. I mean, I am still not ready, but… I'd consider it as something I'd want. And what if I don't remember, or takes me a while still remember, but I want to do things before… the remembering."

"Well, Kurt, what you just need to realize is that sex is about trust, ultimately. It is the biggest act of intimacy that you can share with someone. Honestly, right now, with you freaking out like this, I don't think you're ready. But if you have already made this leap in less than a week's time that you are _considering _it, maybe in a little more time you will be. In fact," Rachel added with a knowing smile, "I think the hard part would be getting Blaine to agree with it."

Kurt plopped his head back against the back of the couch. "God, why is this my life?"

"Well, Kurt," Rachel said, scooting closer to him. "You have to realize, the whole amnesia thing considered, it's a pretty good life."

Kurt lifted his head back up. "I guess it's not so bad."

Rachel smiled. She had a nice smile. Kurt had never realized before. It lit up her whole face and it seemed so real.

"Let's watch _Hairspray_. I could really use some Zac Efron and James Marsden right now."

Rachel beamed even more. "You know I will being singing along, right?"

"Of course," Kurt said, all haughty-like, "I will be too."

* * *

><p>Aki- I actually had to go through this story and figure out how many days it has been. This is only the sixth day, if I counted right, since Kurt waking up in the hospital.<p>

So, I have now had both Blaine and Kurt shirtless in this story and have made them into moments… I think you all know what that says about me.

Also, all you reviewers out there. Do you want to be my boyfriends/girlfriends? Because, seriously, I love you so much.

Fun fact: The song Rachel had prepared was I Will Remember You by Sarah McLaughlin

If you want to read my random rambling on Glee and other things, you can find them at ungoodpirate .tumblr .com


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Blaine paused outside his apartment door and listened. There was… giggling. He unlocked the front door and stepped in to find Rachel and Kurt commiserating on the couch.

"Blaine!" Rachel said, spotting him first and popping off the couch.

"Rachel. You're here," he stated, hoping his surprise didn't come off as rude.

"Kurt invited me," she said as she approached him and kissed Blaine on the check. She must have been drinking. She always started kissing when she drank. But it wasn't too much. She went for both cheeks when she was really drunk, sometimes even a peck on the lips. It got awkward.

There was a load "Hi, Blaine!" from the other side o the room. Blaine pegged Rachel with a look.

"Did you get Kurt drunk? You know what his hangovers are like."

Rachel waved a dismissive hand. "He's only had wine. It's not that bad with wine. Join us."

She latched onto his arm and led him over to the couch, and sat down between herself and Kurt. "We've been talking about you."

"Rachel!" Kurt snapped at her with a squeak. He turned bright red.

"But we're not going to tell you about what," Rachel added with a wink. Kurt was still flushed, and when Blaine glanced at him, Kurt avoided eye contact.

Rachel took over the conversation with Blaine half paying attention and Kurt still sipping his wine but silent. Eventually, when she reached some sort of conclusion, she stood, saying, "Well, I guess I should go."

"Are you alright for that?"

"Oh, yes. I only had two glasses and the last was an hour ago— plus, I'm taking the subway."

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

"The bottle is empty."

"I suppose it is."

"It's not like a normal-sized bottle. It's a big bottle of cheap wine—"

"Hey!"

"— That is now empty, and you only had two glasses."

"Oh."

Just then the both looked over to see Kurt standing from the couch and teetering unevenly. He let out a little laugh then put a hand to his head. "My head feels funny!" he said, loudly. He took a step forward, but that step forward was into the coffee table. He stumbled and barely caught himself from falling over.

Blaine rushed over to his side and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Okay, time to lay down. Bye, Rachel."

"Bye, Rachel," Kurt mimicked and waved sloppily. Rachel waved back and let herself out. Kurt turned his attention to Blaine, who was taking on more and more of his weight as he slumped more and more. "I'm fine."

Blaine chuckled. "You're not going to be fine in a little while. You have a very quick drunk to hangover time."

"Hmm," Kurt hummed, his head bobbing up and down.

"And wine makes you sleepy. Especially with how much you had," Blaine said. He started hauling Kurt toward the bedroom. Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder.

As Blaine eased Kurt sitting onto the bed, but the moment he let go, Kurt plopped back down onto the pillows. Blaine scooped Kurt's legs onto the mattress.

"Take a nap. I'm going to make some soup for when you wake up, okay?"

"Hmm… you should take your shirt off again," Kurt said, then rolled over.

Blaine chocked on his own breathing, but he thought he figured out what Rachel and Kurt had been talking about. He closed the bedroom door carefully and Kurt was already snoring quietly.

…

Two hours later, Kurt trudged out of the bedroom in a zombie march.

"Hey," Blaine said from the couch.

Kurt groaned in response.

"Yeah, yeah, sit down. There's ginger ale and Advil right here..."

Kurt sat unceremoniously down on the couch. His hair was stuck up on one side and his clothes were wrinkled. If he had been in his right mind he would have been terrified to be seen like this, even in his own home.

"Ginger Ale?" Kurt asked with squinted eyes.

"You hate it except when you were hung over," Blaine said. He took the glass of the table and carefully pressed it into Kurt's hand, making sure that Kurt had a firm grip on it before letting go.

Kurt took a sip and then made an oddly pleased expression.

"Take the Advil. I'm going to get us some soup."

Kurt didn't respond, but Blaine saw him do it as he stood up. A few moments later he was coming back into the living room with two bowls balanced in his hands. He set them down on the coffee table and then sat back down next to Kurt.

"Here you go… tomato rice soup. Hang over food."

Kurt sighed heavily. "I will take your word for it. You've been right so far." Kurt cradled the bowl in his hands and took a spoon Blaine held out for him and dug in. Blaine guessed that meant he was pleased. Blaine rubbed a comforting hand over Kurt's back then started on his own meal.

Kurt finished in almost record time… Blaine knew that when his lightweight husband was hung over, he tended to give up all decorum.

"There's more in the kitchen," Blaine volunteered.

"Thank you," Kurt said, "for taking care of me"

"It's not a problem," Blaine said.

"It's just…" Kurt craned his head back against the top of the couch and closed his eyes, placing a hand over his eyes to block out extra light. "Sometimes, like now, I feel like a burden… and you are just always there, taking care of me, making me food, dealing with my drama… and I don't do anything for you in return."

"Kurt, you're still healing—"

"But I feel it regardless," Kurt said, loud and snappish then winced at his own noise.

"Okay, okay," Blaine said, deferring the point. He took a long breath and then said, "Maybe, I am not the best person to talk to about all of this… Maybe I'm too involved, too close this all, but the doctor wanted you to go to a therapist, do you think you want to do that?"

Kurt was quiet for a moment, eyes still covered.

"I think I do."

"Okay. I'll make the appointment."

…

The rest of the night was a little less eased than the previous had been, but they curled up together in their shared bed nonetheless. It was hard to admit one needed help. Kurt that he needed more than everyday interactions to fit back into everyday life. Blaine that he couldn't be the sole person to help Kurt get better.

…

"How do you feel you've been readjusting?" Dr. Karen Mura asked. He had only known her for about twenty minutes now, but she had a pretty comforting presence. He thought it would be weird talking to a complete stranger about his life, but considering most people, including the man he was living with and considering how much his friends had changed, were basically strangers any way, he acclimated to it pretty quickly.

"Depends on the day," Kurt said around an awkward laugh.

Karen just tilted her head in a little way that Kurt had already picked up that meant she wanted a real answer out of him.

"It was hard, at first, and I guess it still is, but it's getting better. I mean, Blaine is great… but I still feel disassociated from my whole life. "

"You said that you've mostly been with Blaine in your apartment?"

"Yes."

"I think you need to interact with more people, Kurt. Yes, you will still feel out of place, but you need to be more assimilated with who you are now. Plus, it might help trigger some memories if your experiences with Blaine haven't."

Kurt nodded and the conversation continued on what strategies he could use to cope and rework his life.

"We've talked about him a lot, but we never talked about him directly. How do you feel about Blaine?"

"I—" Kurt started and then he paused.

"Just say what you feel or what you think. It won't get back to him."

"I can see why I married him… I just wish…"

"Yes?"

"Never mind."

"Kurt," Karen said, imploring him to continue.

"Is our time up yet?"

* * *

><p>Aki- Well, so, thank you for all the reviews and support. I just found out that my story has been requested to be made into a pdf at .com and I gave my permission, so you will be able to find it there when they get around to making it.<p>

A few good things have happened to be lately, one in my personal life and one in my writing life, so I am walking on air at the moment.

Again, with school, I will try (and have been succeeding) at updating every two weeks. My mid-term break is coming up, so perhaps I can get a few faster chapters out, but no promises.

You can also find me at .com


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"You've sure been watching a lot of TLC," Blaine commented as he walked into living room with a mug of tea.

"Don't judge because you wish you could be watching it instead of grading papers," Kurt replied without glancing up from the TV. Blaine took a seat next to him and pulled a pile of papers onto his lap from the coffee table.

Kurt had been all sassy since he got back from his appointment with the therapist. Blaine wasn't sure if that was him actually doing better, or him using it as a cover up to some other feelings he had dug up at the meeting. One way or the other, he was going back next week, same time, same place.

"I just want to get as many of these finished before Missy and Mark come over." Missy and Mark were Kurt's friends who he had started a fashion magazine with, and had been invited over to dinner at the recommendation of the therapists that Kurt take more steps at integrating himself into his old life.

"At least they are bringing dinner with them."

"Neither of them cook, so it is going to be a takeout surprise."

"I don't mind," Kurt said with a shrug. He was hiding it, but Blaine could see that Kurt was nervous by the hunch of his shoulders and they way he was avoiding eye contact.

"Kurt," Blaine said, putting a hand on his arm to force Kurt to give him his attention. "No need to be anxious. They already love you."

Kurt grinned at him as a silent thank you. "It's just weird meeting new people that already know me," he said, and it was kind of quiet and demure, and then, back in snarky mode, "I mean, I've just gotten used to you."

Blaine huffed. "Thanks, Kurt."

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Kurt stiffened where he sat. Blaine glanced sideways at him, but said nothing. Rather, he stood and went to the door.

A moment later two people were entering his apartment and Kurt stood.

The girl, Missy, who must have brushed by Blaine, was instantly by his side, clutching his arm with hands that had long, fake nails. "Kurt, darling, you had to go and get in a car accident, lose your memory, and stick me with Mark all alone."

"That's not very nice," said a young man that must have been Mark, who was stuck carrying all the bags from a Chinese restaurant.

...

Missy was an obvious fashionista, wearing knee-high, high-heeled, dark purple, suede boots that almost made Kurt salivate. Her entire outfit was carefully put together and stunning, from the Gucci bag to teardrop chrome earrings. If Kurt had any criticisms for her, it would be to get rid of the acrylic nails, which were just tacky, and tone it down on the highlights, because they were just too obviously _highlights_. Mark wasn't what Kurt had expected. He was fairly tall, although not Finn tall, with a gangly build. He had short, sandy blonde hair, and wore wireless glasses, a T-shirt, and baggy jeans.

For some reason, they were all sitting on the floor, around the coffee table, that had been pulled out into the middle of the room, and were eating out of Chinese food cartons with chop sticks with various amounts of success. Kurt had it down, as did Missy, even with her ridiculous nails. Blaine managed with less finesse. Mark was struggling.

"You know, there are forks in the kitchen," Blaine volunteered to an increasingly frustrated Mark.

"Missy won't let me."

"Let you use a fork?" Kurt asked.

"He'll never learn without practice," Missy responded, scooping a piece of broccoli into her mouth with ease. Her tone had a touch of condescension to it.

Mark rolled his eyes very dramatically.

"Okay, it's been bothering me all night. What is on your T-shirt?" Kurt said, directing the comment at Mark. He was wearing a black shirt, with a red circle in the center that had a cutout silhouette of what looked like a tiger head.

Mark glanced down at his shirt. "It's Thundercats."

"Is that like a band that I forgot?"

"No, it's… It's an anime from the eighties," Mark responded, sounding a little despondent. Missy cackled.

Kurt raised an immaculate eyebrow.

"Sorry, sorry," the girl said, wiping at her eyes as if her laughter had produced tears. "But that is so like the usual conversations you to have. Mark does something nerdy, you don't get the reference, Mark gets depressed."

"It's true. I need to hang out with more geeks."

Missy patted his hand in a mock comforting way.

"Are these really my friends?" Kurt asked in an aside to Blaine.

"Unfortunately, yes," Blaine said.

"You know we can hear you, right?" Missy said.

"Yes," Kurt and Blaine replied in unison.

...

Fifteen minutes later, they were done with their food, and Blaine was clearing off the coffee table. Mark and Kurt both offered to help, but Blaine refused it. He dismissed it as Mark being a guest and Mark and Missy being Kurt's guests. Missy sat there, acting as if she was used to clearing tables off before her, not even passing a discarded box or pair of chopsticks to Blaine as he gathered them up.

When Blaine disappeared into the kitchen, Mark and Missy shared a conspiratorial glance. A second later, Missy was digging a binder out of her over-sized bag, plopping it down on the center of the coffee table, and asking, "How do you feel about lime green?"

"Um," Kurt stuttered. "It depends on the shade and what capacity it is used in."

"But you can say that about any color," Missy said, with a wave of her hand.

"So what else?" Marked added.

"I guess… lime green can get tacky really fast, especially if it is used out of the spring season. I am assuming we're talking about clothes, right?"

"So," Mark said, flipping open the cover the binder to revel a picture of a posed model wearing a lime green mini dress, "This wouldn't be a good."

Kurt wrinkled his nose.

"That would be a no," Missy said, glancing at Mark, who nodded in agreement.

"We need a new cover," Mark said.

"Don't you think it is a little derivative and cliché to just have a model in an outfit on the cover of a fashion magazine? I mean, what makes it stand out."

The two shared another glance.

"I like this Kurt," Missy said.

"I'm sure when I get my memories back, I will be offended by that that."

"Missy! Mark!"

Missy, Mark, and Kurt looked up to see Blaine standing in the door, looking at them like a disappointed parent.

"You promised this was going to be a social visit, not a business visit."

Missy opened her mouth and looked like she was about to going to snap back, viciously, but Mark spoke up first.

"But we need help!" Then he collapsed on the coffee table, burying his head his arms.

"We really do," Missy said desperately.

Mark lifted his head up. "I'm supposed to take care of the books. I'm a number guy. I'm the yelling at the printers guy. I am not meant to make artistic choices. And Missy can't make up her mind if Kurt isn't there for her to argue and bitch with."

"It's true," Missy said.

Blaine sighed and plopped down next to his husband.

"Kurt, it's your decision. Do you want to help these poor, unfortunate souls?"

Both Missy and Mark were making their best attempt at puppy eyes.

Kurt placed both his hands on the coffee table, leaned forward, and said, "You must tell me everything. What is our mission, our goal, our spirit as a magazine? What sets us apart from all those other fashion magazines? And what are we trying to do with this issue?"

Missy looked impressed. "Our boy is back in the zone."

...

"Did you have a good night?" Blaine whispered to Kurt as Kurt slipped into bed next to him several hours later.

"Yeah, it was fun," Kurt whispered back. Blaine had excused himself a while earlier when the other three were still hashing out there magazine mock up. He had work in the morning, still, so he needed his sleep. "Sorry if we kept you up."

"No, it's okay. You need to have to some fun." Blaine then scooted closer to Kurt on his pillow and pecked him on the nose. Kurt did one of those one-sided grins in response and it warmed Blaine's heart.

"Did it by chance spark any memories?" Blaine asked.

Kurt sighed. "No. Unless they happened to be fashion insights."

"Well, the doctor said they would come back with time."

"I know. And it hasn't really been that long, but it seems long…"

"Tomorrow is another day."

* * *

><p>Aki- New chapter. I was worried about writing OCs, but they didn't come out too bad. I hope they were entertaining at least. I needed them to help flesh out the world the is Klaine's future. So, anyway. Hope you enjoyed.<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Kurt felt like he had become popular overnight. Today, he already talked to his father, who had called to check up on him, Missy, Rachel, and Mark, in that order. Kurt wasn't sure if he couldn't stand Missy or if he really liked her. She was abrasive and opinionated and ready to make fun of Kurt or Mark or Blaine at the drop of a hat, but it never felt like it had any real venom to it. Kurt even found himself comfortable enough to make some cutting, catty comments back, which just left Missy laughing.

Rachel apologized for getting him drunk, and then went on to turn the conversation to herself and her theater auditions and her thoroughly unappreciated talents. She was very much the Rachel he remembered her being as much as he did know her in high school.

Mark called next, sometime in the afternoon while Blaine was still at work. He, at least, had the decency to ask Kurt how he was doing before taking over the conversation. He complained about "Missy being mean" to him, which was a weird way to phrase it because he was an adult, not a third grader. Then he started lamenting about being forever alone, and why couldn't he fine his own "You or Blaine." Kurt, the night before, had the inkling that Mark was gay, but he hadn't thought it important to ask. This confirmed his suspicion.

Although, when he finally got to take a moment for his own thoughts, he had to wonder when he had become a sounding board for all of these people. He was pretty much friendless last he could remember, with only dawning friendship with members of the glee club, and now everyone was turning to him to talk to. Of course, perhaps there stress was all built up because he hadn't been around for it because of his accident, coma, and subsequent memory loss.

It was nice, either way, though, to have friends.

…

The next day was Saturday, and Blaine, as promised, planned to take Kurt around the city. They started the morning out by making breakfast together, which was more fun that Kurt would have anticipated. There was something about sharing a kitchen with someone, especially when you are able to work together with any sort of harmony.

Afterwards, they cleaned up together. As Kurt was cleaning up the dishes, he started humming. This, of course, was nothing unusual in their home, and Blaine just smiled as he wiped up the dining table.

Then Kurt started adding words to the tune, "…and I will be young forever—" Blaine paused. "You make me feel— God, what this song? It's stuck in my head."

Blaine turned to look at Kurt who was scrubbing down some plates.

"It's, aah, a Katy Perry song. 'Teenage Dream.'"

"I hate Katy Perry," Kurt said, drying off the plate and setting it on the counter, unaware of how Blaine was staring at him from behind.

"Kurt," Blaine said.

It so low and tender that Kurt instantly turned around and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just…" He stepped forward and skimmed a hand down Kurt's arm. "The first time we met was when you snuck into my old school, Dalton, to spy for New Directions. You really were such an obvious spy, too, but you stopped me on the staircase to ask where everyone was going. So I took you to the senior commons where the Dalton choir, the Warblers, were about to perform. I was singing lead. We sang a version of 'Teenage Dream.' I sang it to you, the whole time. And you just…smiled."

"Oh," Kurt said, and it was quiet and barely a sound.

"Here's the thing," Blaine said, stepping in even closer, "That song wasn't out back when you remember."

"Are you saying…?"

Blaine nodded.

Kurt jumped into Blaine's arms. "Oh my God," he said, "Oh my God." Blaine wrapped his arms tight around Kurt and could feel him trembling.

"I know," Blaine said.

Kurt pulled back from the hug, but he held onto Blaine's shoulder still, and Blaine did not drop his hands from Kurt's waist. Kurt stared for a moment, looking into Blaine's eyes, but then flickering his gaze down. Then he dove in for a kiss, opened-mouthed and charged. Blaine released a surprised noise, but quickly got a hand in Kurt's hair.

After a while, they stumbled few steps into the table, and it caused them to break apart. They were both breathing heavy, their pulses speeding.

"Hi," Kurt breathed.

"Hi," Blaine replied.

"I don't… I don't think I remember anything else but that stupid song, but that stupid song… it's something. It's…"

"Good," Blaine said. Kurt nodded and they pulled each other into a tight, squeezing hug where they could feel each other's heart beats thrumming through them.

…

"How do you like our trip so far?" Blaine asked, slipping his hand down, and interlacing his fingers with Kurt as they walked down the side walk.

"Times Square, stunning. Broadway, amazing. It could have only been more amazing if I had gotten to see three or four shows while we were there.

"Oh, yeah, just three or four."

"So, where to next?" Kurt asked.

"Just up the block. It's a surprise." They ended up in front of a small coffee house. "Come on," Blaine said, tugging Kurt inside and ordering them some drinks.

"So what is so special about this place?" Kurt asked once they were seated at a table in the corner.

"We used to come to this place all the time when we first came to New York because it was the perfect distant between our two colleges. And because we are creatures of habit when it comes to coffee, we kept coming here a long while after that. It's kind of out of the way now, so we found a new place near our apartment, but we still come here sometimes because of its sentimental value. This, um, this is the place where we decided to get married."

"And how did that go done. Was it a big production of a proposal or was it the more traditional deal?" Kurt asked with a smirk.

"Actually, it was decidedly unromantic," Blaine said around a chuckle. "It was literally 'I think we should get married' and 'I agree.' Then we just started planning the wedding."

"Are you serious?" Kurt said.

"Yes, it was very un-dramatic for us. Usually our big moments involve a few more songs… but in its own way, it was sweet. We just…knew." Blaine reached across the table and took Kurt's hand in his.

Kurt locked eyes with him, and said, "Yeah."

"When you're finished your coffee, I have to show you the greatest music store this city has that no one knows about."

…

They stumbled into their living room after their day out.

"So, I hope you enjoyed your personal tour of New York City," Blaine said.

"Very much," Kurt said. "My tour guide was pretty hot too."

"Oh," Blaine said, "Should I would be worried about him?"

"No, he wasn't _that_ hot."

Blaine put a hand to his heart. "You wound me."

"But you know what my favorite part of today was?" Kurt asked with a wicked grin, coming in close to Blaine.

"What?" Blaine said, voice dropping to something husky.

"The part when we did this," Kurt said, and for the second time that day, initiated a mind-numbing kiss.

Blaine was faster at reacting this time, instantly fitting his arms around Kurt's body as the taller man easily slide his arms onto Blaine's shoulders.

Knowing the best way to make this last, Blaine carefully started shuffling them towards the couch even as Kurt seemed to be really intent on mapping the inside of Blaine's mouth with his tongue. Eventually, he found the edge of the couch with the back of his legs, and he knew he was okay to fall back on it.

He fell back and Kurt made a surprised noise, but didn't detach his mouth. Blaine shifted his elbow back and the TV blared on, the volume left loud from earlier. That, rather than the fall, made Kurt jump and pull back from where he laid on top of Blaine.

"Sorry, I hit the remote," Blaine said, maneuvering a hand around to try and dig it off the cushion as the television changed over from one commercial to the next.

"Blaine—"

"Almost got it."

"Blaine. It's the song."

"What?" Blaine said, looking up at his husband, whose eyes looked shiny, like they were gathering tears.

"Listen."

Blaine did listen, and he looked too, to see a car commercial for, of all things, a stupid mini-cooper driving around on country roads, with Katy Perry's 'Teenage Dream' playing in the background for no logical reason.

"It's where I remembered the song from," Kurt chocked out. "I've seen that commercial a hundred times. It was annoying the hell out of me the day you went back to work."

Blaine felt like he just swallowed something to big for his throat to fit. "It's okay," Blaine said.

"No, it's not." Kurt pushed off the couch and walked to the opposite side of the room, facing the wall, away from Blaine.

Blaine got off the couch and stood behind Kurt.

"Hey." He reached out, but Kurt flinched away from his touch.

"I'm going to go take a nap. The day out made me tired," Kurt said, and went directly to the bedroom without turning around to even look at Blaine.

Blaine wanted to say something. Something to stop Kurt from walking away, to regressing to the habits of avoidance he had used when he had first came home from the hospital, but Blaine said nothing.

The bedroom slammed and it went straight through Blaine's bones.

…

He sat out there in the living room for a good hour, not really able to think. Rather, all he could do was dwell in his own grief, how his moment of hope had been snatched away from him… and then how Kurt must have been feeling the exact same thing, but amplified, because everything he was depended on those memories.

He should be with Kurt.

So he went to the bedroom and opened the door without knocking. Kurt was bundled up on the bed, facing away from him, but Blaine could hear him sniffling. Blaine climbed on the bed, wrapped an arm around Kurt's torso, and lightly kissed the back of his neck.

"I just wanted to remember so much," Kurt said in a whisper.

"I know," Blaine replied.

Kurt turned around in Blaine's arms and buried his face in Blaine's shoulder and cried. Blaine just held him. It was something they both needed.

* * *

><p>Aki- So, I am going to hide in a bunker in avoidance of the shoes you are going to throw at me for this. Hey, but at least it was a fast update and you should be getting another in the next few days (I have some free think from schoolwork, so this is why this is happening).<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Screw it," Kurt said. "I'm tired of sitting around waiting for my old life to just show up again in my head. I want to live my life. I already lost all these years, I do not want to waste anymore days moping. I'm Kurt Hummel-Anderson. I'm fierce. I'm fabulous. And I have the whole world in front of me."

It sounded really good as he said it into the bathroom mirror the next morning as he moisturized. He had crawled out from under Blaine's arms this morning. He had woken up early and Blaine was still out. He had just needed some time to primp and clear his head.

Once he had completely an extra-long morning ritual of skin care and otherwise prepared himself, he exited the bathroom the same moment Blaine exited the bedroom looking ruffled in a delightful way.

"How are you feeling?" Blaine asked.

"Okay," Kurt said. "There's something cathartic about crying yourself to sleep."

"Good," Blaine said. "I guess I'll go get cleaned up." He passed by Kurt on the way to the bathroom.

Kurt sat down on the couch and fiddled with the remote control to the TV. A moment later he slammed it down on the coffee table. "This is all your fault," he said to the remote. It was a silly accusation, really, because, well, the remote was an inanimate object, and it was almost for sure that they would have found out the song was from the commercial. It didn't stop this all from sucking. It didn't stop Kurt from glaring at the remote control like he could melt it.

"Did the coffee table offend you personally, or…?"

Kurt glanced up to see Blaine standing there at the edge of the living room with nothing by a towel wrapped around his waist. He must've not brought clothes to change into and Kurt, when thinking about it, hadn't recalled seeing any robes hanging in the bathroom. And his wet hair was dripping little drops down Blaine's neck, onto his shoulders, and rolling down onto his naked chest.

Kurt bit his bottom lip. Seeing Blaine shirtless before had been tantalizing, but now, with the dampness and him just standing there for Kurt to ogle… it was nearly unbearable.

"Kurt…?"

"No, um, the table is just an innocent bystander during my battle with the remote control." Kurt was surprised he was able to articulate such a clear response.

"Right, well, I'm going to go get dressed."

Kurt definitely didn't stare at Blaine's toweled ass as he walked by.

…

"So, what do you want to do today?" Blaine asked, now dressed. He joined Kurt on the couch and placed a hand on his thigh.

Kurt rolled his head on his shoulders, then said, "Tell me something about you. Something I don't know yet."

"What kind of thing?" Blaine asked.

"Something personal. Something I already know, but don't remember. Something that you trust me with."

Blaine nodded and pursed his lips in thought. "Okay, well, this is the first thing that popped into my mind and it is kind of horrible, but I'll just tell you… the first day you came back to the apartment I explained how I went to three different high schools. There is a bit of a story why I left my first school."

"Alright."

"I came out fairly young, and I harassed in school for it. I had this one friend in my high school who was also gay. We decided to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance together just because. I think we were trying to prove a point. After the dance, when we were waiting for his dad to come pick us up, these three older guys from the school showed up, and, well, beat the crap out of us."

"Oh my God." Kurt's hand dropped to grab the hand Blaine had left on Kurt's leg.

"It's okay," Blaine said, "It was a long time ago. It doesn't hurt me anymore. I was in the hospital for a week and it put me a year behind in school, but it's the past now. It took a while for me to build that confidence back up again, but I did."

"That was a lot more depressing than I anticipated when I asked the question," Kurt said, ducking his head.

"Sorry."

"No, it's not your fault," Kurt said and he maneuvered to interlace his fingers with Blaine's. "I asked after all. I knew it could have been anything. Tell me something else, something about us. Not… not something in the past, something about who we are now… or, I mean, who we were before I lost my memories."

And there was the opening. A place for Blaine to reveal that little secret that had been clogging him up. "Um, well," and it was chocking him up more then he imagined it would. He pushed through it. "Before the accident, we had been looking into… expanding our family."

Kurt's face read slightly confused, then shifting into knowing, "You mean…"

Blaine nodded, his heart pounding roughly in his chest, at the same time fairly relieved that Kurt hadn't freaked out yet. He had been dealing really well lately, though. "We had decided on adoption… been researching different agencies, and have been searching for a bigger place for when our lease is up in a few months."

"Wow. That's… a lot."

Blaine winced. "That's why I didn't tell you earlier. You weren't dealing with the whole married thing too well at first, and this seemed like, to steal your words, a lot."

Kurt nodded for a moment, before speaking. "You know, I don't know back when I remember thinking that I would want kids. Not that I _wouldn't_ want them, but that I just couldn't be that guy. Of course, back when I remember, I didn't think I could be a lot of things." He paused and looked distantly past Blaine at the wall, and Blaine recognized it as Kurt thinking.

"And?" Blaine prompted, knowing Kurt had more to say.

"I imagine I'd want to be a parent with you."

Blaine used his free hand to cup Kurt's cheek. Then he leaned forward to press a light kiss the man's lips. When he pulled back, Kurt's eyes were still closed from where they had fluttered close at Blaine's contact.

His eyes opened slowly and the intensity they reveled sent a shiver down Blaine's eyes.

"I don't think that we should stop living our lives because of some freak memory loss," Kurt said. "I've decided that I've had enough time to adjust. I want to live my life, and screw when my memories come back or don't come back."

"Though the doctor said they most likely would," Blaine added quickly.

Kurt shushed him. "You are ruining the dramatics of my statement."

"Sorry," Blaine said, but he wasn't. He was smiling. Kurt was smiling too.

This time, Kurt was the one that leaned in and initiated a kiss. Then another, and then another. They started out chaste, but intensified with time until they were make outing sitting straight up on the couch in the living room on Sunday morning with nothing but there interlaced hands between their bodies as they leaned forward towards each other.

It was wonderful, Kurt realized. Of course, he already knew kissing Blaine was wonderful and he knew Blaine himself was wonderful, but it was something else. Something about the circumstance itself… that he could have this. A home and a life and a husband and this feeling that was swelling in his chest, but it wasn't just a feeling. It was also a thought, an assured one, something he knew so surely that he just had to say it.

"I love you," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips.

Blaine paused in his movements, but didn't pull away from where their heads rested together.

"And _don't_ say," Kurt cut in quickly, "That I don't for some noble reason that I can't because I've only known you little more than a week. I know I love you. I know. And I say that as both the Kurt the does and doesn't remember."

Kurt heard Blaine take in a big breath. "I love you too," Blaine said.

They just rested their foreheads together for a while, eyes closed, sharing the air they breathed.

* * *

><p>Aki- Some fluff to make up for last chapter. You can find me at also at ungoodpirate . tumblr . com<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"God, Kurt," Blaine breathed, all full of heat and appreciation, as Kurt pressed kisses down the skin of Blaine's neck. It had become part of their routine, a post-dinner make out session on the couch. It had started out slow, started out with that confession of love and that long, completely upright kiss they had shared. But it had intensified over the days since.

Right now, Kurt was doing what he had learned from Blaine doing to him. Blaine's hand found it's way into Kurt's hair and lightly tugged. Kurt lifted his mouth from Blaine's neck and Blaine redirected it back to his own lips. Kurt rested his hands on Blaine's hips.

Not five minutes later, Blaine pulled back, panting. "We need to cool down."

Kurt said nothing as Blaine sat up, forcing Kurt to move back and off of his lap. So they both ended up sitting on the couch, not touching, turned on, but not willing to go further than they had. It was another part of their emerging routine, and it was becoming increasingly frustrating.

…

"Sorry I had to cancel last week's appointment," Dr. Mura said at the beginning of their appointment. "I had a family emergency."

"It's alright," Kurt said.

"So, it has been two weeks since our last appointment, three since you woke from your coma, how are adjusting?"

"Pretty well, I think. Blaine and I have fallen into a sort of routine."

"What do you mean routine?"

"We wake up together before Blaine goes to work and we cook together in the evening for dinner. That is so domestic," Kurt said, with a touch of smile on his face, "Cooking together, but I really like it. I was too young to ever really cook with my mom before she died. My dad was never a good in the kitchen, so even if we did cook together, we stuck to the basics. But with Blaine, it's a like date almost, even though it is almost a chore. Is that weird?" That was only a piece of what they did together. He didn't mention the lunchtime phone calls and the post-dinner make outs.

He wasn't sure how to bring it up. Bring up those evenings spent on the couch with Blaine, their bodies pressed together as they kissed. Kurt remembered one of the first times after they started making out regularly when Blaine pulled away from his mouth and started trailing kisses down Kurt's neck and finally sucking on a spot that was the junction between his neck and collar bone. How later Kurt had tried to reciprocate, he felt sloppy and unsure, but Blaine's heavy breathing told him otherwise.

"No. It sounds nice. Comfortable, and that's what you want to be."

"Well, I feel like I'm not a guest in my own home now. It feels like it is _my _home."

"That's good," Dr. Mura reassured. "Last time we met you said you felt," she squinted down at her notes, "Disassociated from your whole life. Would you say that feeling has lessened then?"

"Yes, a lot. I don't think I will feel completely at ease until I get my memories back, but for what I can feel in place, I feel in place."

"And you started to interact more people in your new life like we talked about last time?"

"Yeah. A lot of my friends. Particularly this girl named Rachel, who is supposedly my best friend."

"Supposedly?"

"She is both crazy and endearing." That was saying a lot. Rachel was a particular kind of person. She could be incredibly self-centered, but surprised him on many occasions when she was genuinely caring and thoughtful.

"I also have started working again, with these two friends of mine. We run an independent magazine." Working on the magazine was more laborious than Kurt had known. It was easy to have an idea in your head, most days, but executing those ideas could take a lot of time and effort. Kurt worked every day when Blaine was at work now. Sometimes from home, communicating via phone calls and internet conferences and other times in Missy's large apartment (rich parents, only daughter, she had explained), where they had set up their sort of headquarters.

It would be hours of copyediting, of page layouts, and arguments over the intricacies of fashion. It would be Mark stressing over excel spread sheets, Kurt having to call up people he didn't remember to beg for them to write articles for them or get them interviews with this person or sneak them into that fashion show. It was also Missy sending Mark out to get them all coffee and donuts.

"I've also had a chance to talk to my step-mother and step-brother, who I do not remember, over the phone," Kurt said. That had been an interesting experience. Luckily being with Blaine had killed off all feeling of infatuation he had ever harbored for Finn, but it still been odd talking to a boy he didn't feel he had very much in common with except for shared experiences that Kurt did not remember. Carole had been delightful. She came across as motherly, but not in an overbearing way.

"Any memories been sparked through all of this?"

And there was the rub. Three weeks and nothing but a single false lead.

"Nothing," Kurt said with a small grimace.

"That's okay," Dr. Mura quickly cautioned. "It takes time. I think it's just important that you do not allow the lack of remembering to make you feel down. Although I have to say, you do seem a lot happier and a lot more confident than our last meeting."

"I am more confident. More confident than I think I've felt ever. Perhaps that's _the me_ I forgot."

"Is there anything that has been bothering you or that you would like to discuss?"

"Actually, there is this one thing…"

Kurt explained the situation, awkwardly. Dr. Mura listened patiently, nodding along with understanding.

"You sound fairly confident in these feelings you're having, Kurt. And, of course, there is nothing wrong with those feelings. You're an adult ,even with your memories missing. This is your decision. All that matters is expressing this to Blaine, what you want. Relationships are all about communication."

…

That evening, after Kurt's appointment with his therapist, it was no surprise they ended up on the couch again, lips locked. It was also no surprise when Blaine pulled his head down from Kurt's.

"We should stop," he whispered.

Kurt sighed and climbed off of Blaine. "Come on," Kurt said, reaching out his hand.

Blaine sat up and looked at Kurt kind of intensely and kind of confused.

"What?"

"Come on," Kurt said again, quieter, more vulnerable.

Blaine took his hand without another hesitation, and stood as Kurt tugged him up and led him to the bedroom.

With the door closed behind them and their hands still clasped, Blaine asked, "What's going on, Kurt?"

Kurt pulled in Blaine for a sweet kiss.

"I want to be with you, completely."

"Kurt…" he said.

"I've thought about it, a lot, and I'm ready. I want..." but he didn't have the words to finish. It was not that he was embarrassed to admit it out loud, but _sex_ sounded too clinical and any innuendos just not him. He was a romantic after all, so he just decided to show. He put his hands on either side of Blaine's face and brought him in to a heavy, open-mouthed kiss.

"If you're sure?" Blaine breathed.

"I'm sure," Kurt said, and then they tumbled onto the bed.

When they got themselves situated Kurt was lying down, but propped up on his elbows, and Blaine was straddling his hips. Blaine pulled back from sucking on a spot behind Kurt's ear to tug his shirt off over his head. Kurt, of course, already knew he liked Blaine shirtless, but he had been silent and embarrassed before. This time Kurt pressed a hand to Blaine's torso and let it trail down his abs. When he glanced up from where he was appreciating, he saw that Blaine's eyes were closed.

"Your turn," Blaine said after a moment, and he helped Kurt unbutton his shirt, shirk it off, and get it out from under him. Although Blaine had undoubtedly seen Kurt shirtless before, it was the first time Kurt remembered it.

"So hot," Blaine said and any self-consciousness that Kurt may have had was melting away. Next thing they were stripping out of their pants. Then they were just in their underwear, and Blaine started kissing, licking, and nipping his way down Kurt's body, starting as his neck and going down his chest and stomach. He paused at Kurt's belly button and rested his chin on the skin of Kurt's stomach just above the waistband of his underwear.

He was fairly breathless, fingering the elastic of Kurt's underwear, as he said, "You can say stop, at any time, if it's too much too fast. Doesn't matter how far we get. You can tell me to stop. Know that, Kurt."

"Blaine," Kurt said, reached down and tangling his fingers into Blaine's hair.

"Yes?"

"Keep going."

...

"Hey," Blaine said. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table showed that three hours had passed. They must have fallen asleep together after. Kurt's eyes blinked open languidly. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," Kurt said with a growing smile.

"Good," Blaine said, running a hand up Kurt's naked thigh.

Kurt let his fingers dance along Blaine's jaw and neck.

"I just," he started, and he felt strangled for words. "I just didn't know it could be that good."

Blaine chuckled, and it was warm and deep. He then used his well-placed hand to hitch Kurt's thigh up and over so that Kurt's and his legs could be tangled together.

"It's staggering," Kurt said. Blaine inched his head forward and brushed his nose against Kurt's in an Eskimo kiss. Kurt dropped his hand and let it splay out on Blaine's chest. "To feel that connected with someone."

"It's like your first time, all over again," Blaine said. "Our first times were with each other. I'm honored that you chose me again."

Kurt hmm-ed deep in his throat. "Who else?"

* * *

><p>Aki- I did a bit of a time jump to move things along. I had been going through every single day one at a time, but Kurt and Blaine had gotten at a fairly comfortable place, but not quite at the next step (which was sexy times!). So, this chapter takes place about two weeks since the last chapter, if that was unclear.<p>

Also, I will be going back to my school schedule of updating, so every two weeks.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

It was four in the morning, and Blaine was shirtless in bed, lying half overtop Kurt. His cell phone started ringing where he had left it on the bedside table. Kurt, of course, the heavy-sleeper, didn't wake, but Blaine did. He groaned quietly to himself and rolled over to snatch it up.

"Hello," Blaine said, holding the phone to his ear.

A snappish voice replied, "We is coming to New York. You bets be ready," and then promptly hung up.

Kurt, who had not been awoken by the noise, but must have noticed the lack of Blaine's body heat, blinked blearily up at Blaine. "What's going on?"

"Santana called," Blaine said.

"Santana… the cheerleader?"

"Yup," Blaine said, settling back down next to Kurt, looping an arm around his torso.

"Why?"

"Brittany and she are coming to visit this weekend." Blaine had long since learned how to interpret Santana-speak.

"Okay, I know I saw all the pictures of us in Glee club together and everything, but we are actually friends?"

"Mmmhmm," Blaine noised as he nuzzled his face into the side of Kurt's neck.

"And Brittany and Santana are coming together… are they like, roommates or something?"

Blaine let out a bark of laughter. "Kurt, they're together."

Kurt gave Blaine a startled look. "Like…?" he asked, waving a hand between the two them.

"Yup."

"Huh… And why did Santana call at four in the morning?"

"Because she likes to be annoying," Blaine whispered, but he seemed much more preoccupied with layering kisses on Kurt's shoulders.

"We should probably go back to sleep. You have work in the morning," Kurt said, all the while tilting his head to give Blaine better access.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, and there was a touch of whine to his voice.

"Oh, alright," Kurt teased, and he rolled over and on top of Blaine.

…

Kurt was walking slowly down a grand, curving staircase in a mansion-like building, while boys in gray pants and navy blazers with red crests and piping scurried down the steps around him. He pulled his sunglasses off.

"Excuse me," he said, and a boy, an oddly familiar boy, turned around. "Can I ask you a question, I'm new here?"

"My name is Blaine," said the boy, reaching out a hand to shake.

"Kurt," Kurt replied, as he shook Blaine's hand. Kurt was smiling. He felt like he was smiling.

"So what exactly is going on?"

"The Warblers!" Blaine answered enthusiastically. "Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the Senior Commons. Tends to shut the school down for a while.

"So, wait, the glee club here is kind of cool?"

"The Warblers are like rock stars." Blaine was smiling. "Come on," he said then, "I know a short cut." He reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand. Something surprised and wonderful jolted in Kurt's chest. And he just went along with it.

Kurt gasped and sat up in bed. It was already bright out and the other side of his bed was empty except for a note. 'Left for work. Didn't want to wake you up. You looked so beautiful asleep. And I know I kept you up this morning.'

Kurt just grinned at the message, but it dropped away as soon as was back in thought. He had had a dream, not a bad dream, but a vivid one. He spent a moment trying to review it in his head. He knew that dreams often all too easily slip away like sand if you weren't careful to catch them.

He had been at that school. He had recognized those uniforms from all the photo albums he had been through in their apartment. And Blaine was there, but Kurt didn't know him. Was this it? Was this a memory of the first time they met? It would have been rather romantic in that it would have been a great start for a love story.

Or was it just a dream? Or just something his head had constructed with the snippets of things he knew and the hopes of things he wanted? Kurt sighed and rubbed his palms into his eyes, then got out of bed to get a shower.

…

Showered, dressed, and styled, Kurt decided he was talk to Blaine about his dream when his husband got home from work. Kurt didn't want to build up any more false hopes, so he would view it with skepticism until he had a chance to confirm or deny if it were an actual memory or not.

He talked with Missy about their magazine. They had a few last minute fixes to fix and decisions to make, and then it would be going to the printer on Monday. He was exited. This was his first publication, in a way. But after that, it left his day kind of empty.

Sometime after lunch, there was a knock on the front door. Kurt got out off the couch and went to the front door, curious and confused as to who had shown up. He opened the door, and a second later, his arms were full of woman. A blonde one to be exact.

"Kurt, I've missed you."

"Let him breathe, Britt. We don't want to suffocate one of our favorite gays other than us."

The woman unlatched herself from Kurt and stepped back.

"So, how are you, Mr. Forget-Everything?" Santana said, stepping up and patting Kurt on the cheek.

Kurt stared a little, mouth dropped in a little shock, because, sure, he knew they were coming, but he didn't think they would be there so soon, and without Blaine as a buffer. I mean, he wasn't friends with Rachel before, but at least he had actual interactions with Rachel before he lost his memory. Brittany and Santana, however, were in his high school but never part of his life.

"Still have forgotten everything," he ends up replying snarkily.

Santana smirked. "Still got your bite then."

With that, she pushed her way past Kurt into the apartment, Brittany trailing behind, their hands intertwined.

"Please, do come in," Kurt muttered to himself, the women long since having passed. By the time he got back to the living room, Santana had her shoes off and her feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Feet," Kurt commented, but he wasn't sure if his future self would have appreciated that very much, and well, he didn't appreciate it himself much either. Santana took them down and placed them on the floor.

"I was hoping you would forget that rule."

"A proper appreciation of interior design is something that will never leave this mind."

He was still standing awkwardly to the side of the room. There was space on the couch, still, but it felt weird to just sit down. Too friendly for friends he didn't remember being friends with.

Brittany learned forward where she sat and asked, a tone of sadness to her voice, "Kurt, did you really forget me?"

Kurt really wanted to have another answer than 'no' looking at her puppy dog eyes, earnest and open.

"I'm sorry. I forgot everything until the beginning of sophomore year of high school. Even Blaine."

Next thing he knew, he was being hugged by Brittany again, except this time it wasn't a happy, smothering, enthusiastic one, but one more akin to comforting. And this time he had a chance to hug her back.

"Thanks," he whispered into her hair.

She pulled back and smiled at him. Then she linked an arm through his and tugged him to the couch to sit next to her.

"So," Santana said, obviously over the touching moment. "I was thinking… Britts, me, you, and your hubbie are be going out club and bar hopping tonight. We're going to get messed up," she said, raising a hand as though in praise, then she withdrew it, "except responsibly, because we got public images to deal with now. My days of bar fights are long over."

"There are so many things I could say…"

"Well, why don't say them and go get us some drinks," said Santana.

"That is the polite thing to so when you invite guests into your home," Brittany added, nodding sagely, as if this were a great piece of advice.

…

Blaine was glad it was Friday. He was glad it was the weekend yet again and he would get to spend more time with Kurt. There was something about things like car accidents that made you appreciate the things in your life more than usual. When he got to the door of his apartment, he didn't expect to hear so much noise coming from inside. It could have been the TV, but Blaine knew that it wasn't. It had seemed that certain self-invited guests had arrived early.

He fumbled hurriedly with his keys. Brittany was a sweetheart and always would be, but Santana, even when she was your friend, was a lot to deal with when you weren't used to her. He knew. He had been there. And Kurt didn't know her.

All that worry, though, and then the moment he opened the door, he was confronted with the sounds of laughter. Seeing as disaster was not imminent, he stepped through and took care to shut and lock the door behind him.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"Blaine!" Kurt and Brittany yelled out in simultaneous joy.

Santana just smiled from her seat and if you weren't paying attention, it would have been missed. "We're just regaling Kurt with the tales of New Directions."

"I was just being told about the time Rachel Berry showed up to glee practice with duct tape over her mouth in protest because she didn't get a solo," Kurt said. "It's eerily accurate to her character."

"Well, I'm glad you're having fun," Blaine said. He perked himself on the arm of the couch next to where Kurt sat. It was a natural action that followed next, with Kurt tilting his head up and Blaine leaning down for a quick series of three hello pecks.

"Are you sure you don't remember?" Brittany asked quietly from next to Kurt.

Kurt patted her on the knee. "Yes, Britt, I'm sure."

"Oh, it's just… for not remembering Blaine, you look at him the same way you used to."

Aki- Sorry for the delayed chapter. Life has caught up with me, and by life I mean school, because otherwise I don't have a life that doesn't exist on the internet. I am on Easter break right now, so I will try (emphasis: try) to update again over my break. After that, I will have to suspend my every two weeks update schedule, because I cannot guarantee anything until after my finals week (which is at the end of April/beginning of May for me). I know that sucks, but I have papers to write and exams and reading and I might get an update in, but, like, I need to graduate from college more than I need to write fanfiction (sadly).


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"No," Santana said, flipping a page of the magazine she was pursuing as she sat on the couch.

"No, what?" Kurt asked. He had just walked out to the bedroom.

"No to the outfit," Santana said, flipping another page. Brittany was in the bathroom fixing her hair.

"You haven't even looked at me."

"I always say no to your first outfit," Santana said, "Because it is always wrong."

Kurt opened his mouth to retort, because he had an impeccable fashion sense and was wearing Armani at the moment. But before he could get in a word out, Santana gave him a quick look over.

"Put on some of those tight pants you wore in high school to show off that ass and drop the tie. We're going out drinking, not to the office. "

Kurt sighed and turned to go back to the bedroom. He figured it was better than arguing with Santana, especially because he kind of saw her point about the tie thing and didn't want to admit it.

"And if Blaine is trying to put on a bowtie or gel his hair, I will come in there and break his hands myself," Santana yelled after him.

Kurt slammed the door and turned to Blaine, who was buttoning up a shirt. "She is so frustrating."

"You only say that because she insulted your clothing. You were laughing with her earlier."

Kurt nodded his head as if to say 'true' but he wasn't going to say it aloud. "But now I have to figure out another outfit that not only I find perfect, but Santana approves of."

"Well, I heard her say tight pants that show off your ass, which I would find appealing, of course. What about your purple ones."

Kurt's eyes widened. "I have purple pants. Where?" Blaine showed Kurt where the said pants had been tucked away in the bureau drawer. Kurt clutched the dark, royal purple jeans to his chest like had just found a great prize.

"Why hadn't I found these before?"

Blaine wrapped a hand around the back of Kurt's neck and kissed him. "You're adorable."

Kurt smiled at him. Those words seemed oddly familiar. He couldn't help but imagine hands gripping his shoulders reassuringly and someone speaking into his ear, _I think you're adorable._

"Are you okay, Kurt? You kinda have a far off lock…"

Kurt shook his head to clear it. "I don't know, I think—"

"Hurry up in there, boys!" Santana yelled from outside their bedroom.

"Okay," Kurt said. "I need to find the perfect shirt, shoes, and accessories for these pants, but when we get home from all this night, I have to something I want to talk to you about." Kurt hadn't forgotten about that dream.

"Is everything alright?" Blaine asked with worry in his tone.

"Don't worry, it's a just a thing… I just need time and private moment for it."

"If you say so. I'll go try to stall Santana. You figure out your outfit." Blaine went over to the door, but before he left, he said, "But may I suggest the lace up leather boots with the purple jeans."

…

Their first stop, as mandated by Santana's master plan, was at an uptown bar. They bought over-priced mixed drinks and sat in plump, cushy chairs around a low table, continuing to catch up. Kurt, being light-headed from drinks and laughter, didn't put two and two together as Santana started telling her story.

"So I was chasing this guy down, and he was wheezing, so it was easy to caught up. Most dudes just assume that can outrun a girl even if they are completely out of shape, and let me tell you, he was. So I tackle the perp, get him in handcuffs, start telling him his rights, and tries to flirt with me. Like, I know I'm hot, but seriously, did he think a slob like him think he had a chance."

"Wait, wait, wait," Kurt said, "I think I missed something. Are you a cop?"

"The correct term is police officer," Santana said, sitting up straight.

"Someone thought it was a good idea to give you a gun?" Kurt said.

Santana started cackling, and Blaine and Brittany joined along in the laughter.

"Yup," Santana said, patting Brittany on the thigh. "Britt and I are changing the world together."

"What do you do, Brittany?" Kurt asked.

"I'm a state senator," she said calmly. Kurt didn't think he heard that right at first.

"You're a what?" Kurt asked.

"That's right. My baby is in politics," Santana said proudly, putting her arms around Brittany's shoulders.

"I became interested in it after becoming senior class president." Brittany and Santana went on to explain the rise of Brittany's political career in Maryland in which she was a champion for animal shelters, gay rights, and the education system amongst other things.

"She actually really good at what she does," Blaine whispered to him later when the girls were distracted. "Because she cares about people."

…

"They're all looking at you," Blaine whisper-shouted into Kurt's ear. They were dancing flush up against each other, the music deafening, the beat thrumming through the floor and crowd and into their bones. They were dancing slower than the beat of the song, but they didn't care. They had left the bar over two and a half hours ago and were now in a dance club.

"Not they're not," Kurt said back.

"Yes they are. And they are all jealous that I get to have you."

Kurt laughed, tilting his head up towards ceiling. "If anything," he said, coming down from his high, "They're looking at you."

"Let 'em stare," Blaine said, maneuvering in for a heavy kiss. Kurt melted even more into him, if that were possible. Kurt was never much of a PDA guy. For someone who was rather bold in their regular life, it seemed a bit weird, but Blaine understood. They had both grown up in a place where they couldn't be safe showing their affection in public. He needed to feel comfortable— they both needed to feel comfortable— and forget his inhibitions. Right now, he had. Of course, the drinking and being in the middle of crowd at a gay and lesbian dance club where others were being similarly as intimate helped.

"Hey, boys!" called two voices in loud unison. It was Brittany and Santana, whom they had lost in the crowd over forty-five minutes ago. They were all arms wrapped around the other and both of them had messed up hair. Blaine wasn't sure if it was from intense dancing or from intense making out, but knowing them, probably both.

"You've got sharks," Brittany said.

"What?" Kurt yelled back.

"It means that you've got guys circling you, just waiting for you guys to separate so they can swoop in for the bite," Santana explained.

"Sharks," Brittany said again with a reaffirming nod.

"Told you there were people staring at you," Blaine leaned in to say into Kurt's ear and Kurt felt himself heat up.

"But that kiss might've gave them the hint that you two were taken… but I think there are a few stragglers hoping for a threesome invite."

"Santana!" Kurt said, scandalized.

"You get embarrassed so easily," Santana said, pinching Kurt's cheek playfully. Kurt swatted her hand away.

"Kurt, are you turning into a tomato," Brittany said.

"You are really red," Blaine confirmed.

Kurt groaned and buried his face on shoulder and wanted to hit him when he felt Blaine laughing.

"That leaves me with my other question," Kurt heard Santana say. "Have you guys, y'know, been doing it since the accident?"

Kurt just barely shook his head against Blaine's shoulder, hoping he picked it up as a clue as to not answer her.

"That's not really you're business," Blaine said.

"And that's a yes," Santana said.

"Boy sex is sexy," Brittany commented.

"Most sex is sexy," Santana said to Brittany. Brittany considered this for a moment. "Come on, boys, it's time for our next stop."

"And where's that?" Blaine asked.

"A karaoke bar, of course."

…

"Karaoke is where music goes to die," Kurt lamented for about the fourth time since they had piled, squashed up against each other in a taxi cab.

"It's okay, Kurt," Brittany said, taking his hand and holding it. "It just means we're going to be the best ones there."

"Yeah right, we will," Santana said with a pumped first in the air.

When they go to the karaoke bar, which was a smaller place and only about half-filled, Brittany instantly ran off to sign up to perform. The other three went to the bar to order drinks. They found a table, and Brittany joined up with them again. Santana slide a martini across the table for Brittany.

Kurt stared at his drink for a moment. "I probably shouldn't drink anymore."

"Just because your married doesn't mean you have to be boring. Plus, you probably danced all the rest of the alcohol off."

"Stop peer pressuring me," Kurt said, but he ended up taking a sip anyway. Santana looked accomplished.

Santana and Brittany's turn at the stage came soon. They got in the limelight and started a very passionate and sensual version of "Me Against the Music."

Blaine leaned over to Kurt and asked, "Do you want to do that?"

"You mean sing?"

"Yes, a duet with me?"

"Maybe… I don't know..."

Blaine let his hand graze over Kurt's elbow. "Well, if you decide you want to, let me know."

The girls finished their song with a flourish, and they were met with strong applause and some wolf whistles. They took several bows.

"They love attention, don't they?" Kurt said.

"How can you tell?" Blaine teased.

The two made in back to their table, rather pleased with themselves… Santana in more of a smug way and Brittany in more of a way of innocent joy and pleasure.

"Your turn, boys," Santana said as she sat down.

Blaine tried to dismiss it, but Santana kept insisting or saying that they were just scared. Yada, yada, yada, until Blaine finally conceded to her pressures and went to sign up for a song.

"Wait for this," Santana leaned across the table to say to Kurt.

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Have you heard Blaine sing yet?" Santana asked.

"A few bars, but nothing serious."

"Just wait," Santana said.

"He's a dreamboat," Brittany added. Santana gave Brittany a weird look.

Not a moment later, Blaine was on stage, standing almost anxiously behind the microphone stand, but as soon as the music started, the nervousness started to melt away.

He began to sing. "I walked across an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand. I felt the earth beneath my feet. Sat by the river and it made me complete…"

"Oh my God," Kurt said, because the intensity of it. Because Blaine was looking across the room straight at him, into him. Because that voice was something he wanted to drown in.

"I told you," Brittany whispered across the table. "Dreamboat."

Kurt was a bit embarrassed to blink and feel something wet roll down his cheek, but really, he was too involved in the moment to care. When Blaine finished his song a minute or so later, he was also meant with a good amount of applause, but as he wasn't two hot girls, perhaps not as much. Kurt really didn't hear it otherwise.

"That song meant something to us, didn't it?" Kurt said, the moment Blaine rejoined them at the table.

"Yes."

"I felt like it did," Kurt said. "If that counts for anything."

"Of course it counts," Blaine said, his voice open and raw.

"O-kay, I think we're invading on a private moment, Brittany, let's go sing some more." Santana and Brittany disappeared from the table. In few minutes they would be taking turns soloing on stage, but neither Kurt and Blaine were paying attention to that.

"Tell me about the first time we met," Kurt said, intertwining his fingers with Blaine.

"Okay," Blaine breathed. "It was at Dalton, right? My old school. Um., you had snuck in to spy on our glee club, and you stopped me on the steps…" Blaine went on to detail the first meeting, all the time Kurt was feeling tears building up in his eyes. It would be embarrassing to full out cry in public. Embarrassing to cry at all, but screw it. The memory matched Blaine's description. He had something, a tiny thing, back.

"I remembered that," Kurt croaked out after Blaine had finished his retelling.

"What?"

"I remembered that. In a dream last night. I asked you just to make sure after the whole song thing."

"Oh my God, Kurt," Blaine said, shifting in his seat so that he could tug Kurt into a strong embrace. "Oh my God."

* * *

><p>Aki - My headcannon for Brittana's jobs (for this fic). First, I didn't want everyone to live in New York, but I wanted Brittana near-ish, so Baltimore. I live in Baltimore, so that works. Well, for a while now I thought it would be cool if someone wrote a fic in which Brittany, after getting a taste for it in high school, would become a moderately successful politician. Then I was left to think up Santana, and I had a politician wife and Baltimore, and I thought, Santana could be a badass Baltimore City police officer. Thus, what we get.<p>

Also, reminder from author's note from last chapter. I am going on hiatus for a month (basically, until my finals are over), because I cannot focus on this story when I have tons of work.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"I never want to get out of bed," Kurt said as the morning sun filled the room. Kurt and Blaine were tangled up naked with each other. After they had gotten home the night before, they made slow, worshipping love to each other.

"We'll starve to death," Blaine whispered into his husband's hair.

Kurt turned in Blaine's arms to face him. "It'd be worth it."

"Not after you got your first memory back," Blaine said. He brushed his nose against Kurt's in an Eskimo kiss.

Kurt settled into Blaine's embrace and wrapped his own arm around Blaine's torso. "Well, let's stay here for a little while more."

Blaine nodded. They stayed quiet for a while, and Kurt's eyes fluttered shut. Blaine would have thought he had fallen back asleep if it weren't for his breathing not slowing enough.

"Kurt," Blaine asked after a few minutes.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you'll remember something else soon?"

"… I don't know. I mean, I got my memory in a dream…so I guess I just have to let my subconscious do its work."

Blaine found himself impatient. Sure, Kurt had just revealed his returned memory a few hours ago, but now that there was a promise of something, now that it was not just a desert of waiting… He wanted it all back.

…

"I can't believe you went to karaoke without me," Rachel pouted for the umpteenth. She had dropped by, uninvited for lunch. The boys had still been unclothed, at the time.

"Seriously, Rachel, it's not a big deal," Kurt said. "I didn't even sing."

Rachel gasped, loudly. "You didn't sing?"

"Rachel," Blaine chastised half-heartedly.

"Blaine, has he sang properly since he lost his memory?"

"…Not that I've heard," Blaine answered quietly, glancing over at Kurt.

"Kurt," Rachel said, grabbing his hands from where she sat next to him on the couch. "You have to sing. It's who you are! No wonder you haven't remembered everything yet."

"I don't think it will be that easy," Kurt said.

"Kurt, you must sing," Rachel said, pushing him up from the couch

"Wha—?"

"Kurt, you don't –"

"No, Blaine, he must." Rachel had a fierce fire in her eyes— passionate, crazed, unrelenting. Kurt would not get away without a song.

Kurt must've picked up that cue too, for he didn't resist, but stood forlornly in the middle of the living room. His posture was tight, though, self conscious.

"What should I sing?"

"Anything," Rachel said. "The first thing that comes to mind."

Kurt shifted the weight between his feet, closed his eyes in thought, and took a large breath.

"Okay, um, I don't even know why this came to mind, but it was the first thing, so..." He took another breath before starting, a little bit unsure, but beautiful. "Share my life. Take me for what I am, for I'll never change, all my colors for you. Take my love. I'll never ask for much. Just all that you are, and everything that you do…"

Rachel nudged Blaine with her elbow. He gave her an 'I know' look.

Kurt's voice got louder and more self-assured as he went into the song. When he got to the finale refrain, he was just belting out his heart, a hand fisted in the front of his shirt. "Don't make me close one more door. I don't want to hurt anymore. Stay in my arms if you dare, or must I imagine you there. Don't walk away from me. Don't walk away from me. Don't you dare walk away from me. I have nothing, nothing, nothing, without you…"

Kurt let out a shuddering breath as he finished the song. Rachel perched on the edge of her seat, beaming, and clapping frantically. "Brava."

"Was that good?" Kurt said, eyes trained on Blaine.

"Beautiful."

Kurt smiled shyly then, and Blaine wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms.

"Well, I'm going to the bathroom…," Rachel said, standing, and then whispering obviously over to Blaine "You're welcome."

"What was that about?" Kurt asked, sitting down next to Blaine.

"You've sung that before, for me."

"Oh… I'm sorry, I don't remember." Kurt shifted in his seat.

"No, don't apologize," Blaine said, putting an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "You remembered the song, that's good enough."

"Yeah, well, it is classic Whitney Houston. Whatever happened to her? Did she ever have a successful comeback?"

"Let's talk about that later," Blaine said, awkwardly, patting Kurt's knee.

"Why did I sing the song to you… before?"

"We had a fight…it was in high school. Our first real fight, and you sang that," Blain explained.

"What I do?" Kurt asked.

"Why do you assume you did something?" Blaine asked, and maybe he was hopeful that Kurt was regaining another memory.

"Because, _I Have Nothing_ has me begging for you to 'stay in my arms.' It doesn't sound like I was the victim of the fight."

Blaine considered the best way to answer. "You were flirt texting with another guy."

"Oh," Kurt said. Kurt couldn't imagine wanting to flirt with anyone but Blaine.

"But it wasn't completely your fault. I had been…pushing you away, because I was dealing with the fact that you were going to New York a whole year ahead of me, and I would be alone."

"Oh," Kurt said again, and he nuzzled his face into the side of Blaine's neck.

"It's okay, Kurt. It was forever ago," Blaine said.

"Can I come out now!" Rachel yelled from the bathroom.

"You didn't have to go in there in the first place!" Blaine yelled back. Kurt giggled into his neck.

…

Rachel left a little later. Brittany and Santana showed up briefly to give them a goodbye. Just when Blaine thought the two of them were really for some of alone time. But just as they were having dinner, there was a knock on the door.

Blaine sighed. "I'll get it."

It was Missy, and she strutted in to find Kurt. "Look what I have," she said, pulling out something glossy from her satchel-style purse.

"Oh my God," Kurt said, jumping out of his seat. "Is this the magazine?" Missy handed it over, and Kurt held the magazine carefully in his hands.

"Technically, it is just a proof, but yeah, your first magazine! I made Mark go over it earlier for mistakes, but I thought you might appreciate seeing it."

"It's beautiful," Kurt said, ghosting his hand over the cover.

"Go ahead, look through it," Missy urged. Kurt positively squee-ed, and started carefully flipping through the pages.

Blaine couldn't keep his eyes off of Kurt's face, excited and purely happy. He loved that man, and was going to spend the rest of his life with him.

* * *

><p>Aki- I am done with college! I turned in my last paper today, and graduate in about a week. So until then I get to hang out at my dorm and do nothing! Or, write some of this story! Thank you for your patience…<p>

Just wondering, how would anyone feel about Cooper showing up in this story. He didn't exist when I started writing it, but he may be fun.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

For a few days, nothing really changed for Kurt and Blaine. Blaine went to work; Kurt continued to work with Missy and Mark, already planning out the next magazine issue even though this one wasn't completely published yet. However, that was how the business worked. You never stopped.

Then, that Thursday, after days of waiting for some kind trigger or dream for another memory, Kurt had a nightmare. He woke up from a tossing sleep, with sweat ringing his hairline. He sat up suddenly, gasping.

"What's wrong?" Blaine said, sitting up right after him.

"I just," Kurt said weakly, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "He was touching me, and I didn't like it."

"What?" Blaine said, urgent. He brushed a hand over Kurt's shoulder. He knew Kurt liked physical comfort, but sometimes, after things like that, he might want space.

"It was one of those bullies at school who used to throw me in the dumpster. I didn't know all their names. He was big, hulking guy, so much bigger than me."

"Dave Karofsky," Blaine said quit plainly.

"Yes, I think that's it," Kurt said, almost absently, staring down at the covers on his lap, but not really looking at anything. "How did you know that?"

"Kurt, what was memory?"

Kurt closed his eyes as if to more clearly remember. "I was at McKinley, by my locker. And he came up, really close. I was scared, I could feel that. So terrified it hurt." Blaine placed his hand for sure on Kurt's shoulder now, and when he didn't shrug it off, Blaine rubbed his thumb back and forth in a minimal form of comfort.

"Then he," Kurt continued with a little shuddered, "He touched me. Just dragged a finger down my chest, and he was…" He shuddered again. Blaine moved from holding his shoulder to linking an arm around the back of his next. Kurt leaned into him.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked quietly.

Kurt sighed. "It didn't feel like a dream. It felt real, like I living that very moment."

"It was real," Blaine said, and he wasn't sure if that it was a helpful statement, but it wasn't something that could be denied. If Kurt needed to go through the same emotional healing as he did after the original round of Karofsky's harassment, Blaine would be there for him yet again.

"Why?" Kurt croaked. "Why did he do that?"

"Karofsky was a … troubled kid. That doesn't excuse what he did, but it explains it."

"What did he do? I know it was more than him being in my personal space. I knew, that was bad, but they way I felt… there had to be more."

"Are you sure you want to know this? I mean, a lot of it I only know second hand from you, but wasn't a pleasantest time."

"I need to know, Blaine," Kurt insisted, sitting up straight. "If I have another flash like that, I want to prepared for what's coming."

So Blaine did tell him, everything he knew, even up to the apologies and forgiveness.

"Wow, um, wow," Kurt said, once Blaine had finished. He attempted to discretely wipe at the corners of his eyes where some moisture had built up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I didn't think about how… getting memories back meant getting bad ones too."

"Well, you're good memories outweigh the bad. At least, I would think and hope so. I mean, I am in most of them."

That made Kurt laugh and lightly whack Blaine on the arm. "Don't be cocky."

They stayed up for a little while, until Kurt said he was ready to try and sleep again. Blaine didn't let him out of his arms as the laid back down, and Kurt didn't seem eager to get out of his arms anyway.

…

Rachel had taken to coming up with plans to get Kurt to remember everything. She started bringing Kurt foods that were food for memory: eggplant, red beets, blueberries. She brought Kurt DVDs of amnesia stories: Samantha Who, The Vow, etcetera. She also regularly emailed him new age meditation techniques to improve memory. It was getting a bit exhausting. It was well-intentioned, and a few of the ideas were okay ones, but it made Kurt feel pressured.

"Just tell her to stop," Blaine said. He could Rachel the same thing, but Kurt was nothing if not independent. The man had been made dependent recently due to his memory lose, but dealing with Rachel was one thing he could definitely do.

"I could… it's just, she's trying to be nice. And what if she somehow comes up with something brilliant that actually works? I mean, unlikely, but what if."

"If that's how you want to deal with it, it's your call."

Kurt had another Karofsky themed nightmare that very night. Being prepared hadn't helped. Caught up in the dream, it was felt just as real. He had woken up shaky and unnerved. Thankfully Blaine was there.

…

"You alright, honey?" Amanda asked, sitting across from Blaine in the teacher's lounge. "You look positively destroyed."

"Thanks," Blaine croaked as he sipped the burnt tasting coffee he had gotten from the nearby coffee maker.

Amanda put up her hands mock defensively. "Sorry, but you look really tired though."

"I know," Blaine sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "Kurt's been having trouble sleeping….nightmares" It was a complicated thing. On one hand, they were memories, and so it was a type of progress. On the other, it's not what Blaine would have wanted for his husband at all. Kurt should've been remembering the good things. He deserved that, a whole life full of good things. Yes, Blaine knew was plenty of bad in there too. He knew that from his own life. If he had forgotten his life up to that same point Kurt had, Blaine would have had a lot of bad memories to regain as well.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. He alright?"

Blaine shrugged. "I mean, you know how he is. He likes to deal with things by himself a lot of the time. I can't imagine how much truer that is with him in such a younger mindset."

Amanda reached across the table and patted his hand. "Should he talk to someone about it?"

"Well, he told his therapist, but she said not to worry." Not exactly. She said that as long as the same memory wasn't reoccurring – it wasn't –, and as long as it wasn't overall making it hard for Kurt in his conscious hours – that was arguable – it was okay. She also said that these memories seemed to be connected, so it might be quite natural that they were coming around all the same time. However, if it got worse, they might have to consider sleeping pills for Kurt, in order to avoid sleep deprivation. The only problem with sleeping pills is that dreams were, so far, the only way Kurt was getting his memories back…

Which is exactly what put them in a predicament. Sleep meant nightmares, but avoiding nightmares meant no memories at all.

"Well, I hope everything works out," Amanda said.

Blaine grimace-grinned. "Me too."

…

"Tell me something," Kurt whispered after another nightmare woke him up yet again that night.

"What do you want me to tell you?" Blaine asked.

"A story," Kurt said. "A happy one."

"Okay," Blaine said, pressing a kiss to Kurt's temple. They were lying down against the pillows, both staring at the ceiling. Kurt couldn't fall asleep right away after a nightmare, and Blaine couldn't fall asleep knowing Kurt was awake and miserable next to him. "Let me think for a minute… There once was a boy…"

"Was his name Kurt?" Kurt asked.

"Nope, it was Blaine."

"Okay, an egocentric story then," Kurt said with a teasing tone. Blaine was glad to hear him light-hearted.

"Shhh… Let me continue. And this boy, named Blaine, dealt with a lot of crap in his young life, but with the help of a supportive school and some good friends, he dealt with it."

"Truly Shakespearean narration here," Kurt teased again.

"Shush, Kurt."

Kurt laughed, and Blaine thought it meant he was doing his job right.

"Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted, Blaine knew something was missing in his life. And then, one day, a boy named Kurt showed up on a staircase."

"I remember that part," Kurt said, pleased.

"And Blaine was stupid for a while, because even though Kurt was _right there_, and beautiful and his best friend, he didn't realize how Kurt was that thing he had been missing from his life."

"Did Blaine ever get his act together?" Kurt asked.

"Yes he did. See, one day, Kurt sang a song. Now, it's not the first time Blaine heard Kurt sing, but this time, something just clicked. And so Blaine orchestrated a plot so that he and Kurt could sing a duet at Regionals performance, but even more important was that Blaine decided to tell Kurt how he felt."

"And how did he do that," Kurt whispered.

Blaine recited the words he had said that day, so many days ago. He had never forgotten them.

Kurt was quiet for a moment after Blaine finished, then, "You really said that to me." It sounded like he could never believe anyone would say such things to him. It was moments like that Blaine remembered the world Kurt came from, back in his sophomore year of high school. He was alone. Love seemed like a distant possibility. Blaine got that. Blaine had been there.

Blaine rolled over in bed so that he was leaned over Kurt and waited until Kurt looked him in the eye.

"Of course I did. And then we shared the best, most amazing, most gorgeous kiss in the history of kisses."

"Show me," Kurt said.

Blaine smiled and then leaned in for a kiss. After pulled back, Kurt breathed, "That must be the second best."

…

Blaine had woken up the next morning before Kurt. With all the nightmares keeping Kurt up, Blaine didn't like to wake him. At least one of them should be well rested. However, when Blaine got out of the shower, Kurt was out in the kitchen, in his pajamas, making breakfast.

"Hey, you," Blaine said. He approached his husband, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, Blaine," Kurt said, all sing-song. He dished some eggs onto some plates, and handed one to Blaine.

"You sure are cheery this morning," Blaine said.

"Well, I may have had another dream after we fell back to sleep."

Blaine dropped his fork. "Really. A good one?"

"Pavarotti," Kurt said. "I remembered Pavarotti. You left him out of the story last night. You've left him out of all the stories. That's not very nice."

"Good ole Pavarotti. May he rest in peace."

* * *

><p>Aki- So, mixed feelings on Cooper. I am not sure if I want him in here or not. He at least will be acknowledged at some point. Here is another chapter. Yeah, no having homework! As always, you can find me at tumblr at ungoodpirate. tumblr. com. I tried to update this last night, but I could not sign in because the captcha picture would not show up. Le sigh.<p> 


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Kurt was groaning in his sleep. Blaine had woken up to discover this. This was bad. He thought Kurt had gotten past the nightmares, but this looked like a relapse. Before Blaine hadn't woken up before Kurt did. Kurt gave a particularly loud groan and thrashed in his sleep. It was time to wake him up.

"Kurt," Blaine said tentatively, putting a hand in his shoulder and shaking it. "Wake up…. Kurt!" He was getting louder. "Please, wake up!"

Kurt blinked his eyes open with a start. "What? What is it?"

"You were having a nightmare," Blaine said.

"No, I wasn't." Kurt responded quickly.

"But you were thrashing and groaning…"

"I—I was having a dream," Kurt said, turning rosy. "But not a nightmare."

"Blaine was eyeing Kurt curiously— the blushed face, the moans, him glancing not too subtly at his lap where—

"Oh," Blaine said. He wasn't embarrassed. Sex dream were really not that embarrassing when you were talking with someone you regularly had sex with. "Was it about me?"

Kurt was even redder, and shifting a bit uncomfortably where he sat, but said quite confidently "Who else?"

"Tell me about it," Blaine said, teasing, and finding it incredibly adorable that Kurt managed to get even redder.

"No," Kurt said, ducking his head.

"Come on. We have sex. Can't you talk about sex with me?" Blaine said, and then he leaned in close to Kurt's ear, and whispered, all husky, "I want to know what I was doing to you to make you make the noises you were making."

Kurt shivered, his mouth slightly agape. He glanced up at Blaine next to him through his eyelashes… and God, Blaine knew that Kurt didn't know what he was doing to him when he gave him looks like that.

"Okay," Kurt said, "Okay, I'll tell you." The two of them, silently communicating, shifted closer together, brush against each other, legs tangling together.

"We were in a hotel, I think. The bed was huge. That's important. And we were—um…?"

"Yes," Blaine implored.

"We were in this…ah… position I didn't think was possible," and even though they were alone, Kurt leaned into Blaine's ear and whispered a more accurate description.

Blaine was extremely turned on. "I believe that was a memory from our honeymoon."

"Oh, well… care to reenact it?" Kurt said.

"Gladly," Blaine said, and the next moment they were tugging off shirts.

…

"Is Kurt okay?" Amanda asked the next day during school.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Blaine replied around a yawn.

"Well, you have really bad circles under your eyes… and last time it was because of Kurt's nightmares."

"Oh, well, I haven't been getting a lot of sleep, but it's not because of nightmares, it's because," he lowered his voice, "Well, Kurt's been in sort of honeymoon-esque phase of our relationship…"

"Oh? Oooh. So you're having lots of hot gay sex."

"Amanda!" Blaine said, scandalized, "This is a school."

"So, this is the teacher's lounge. No kids are here."

"You're ridiculous," Blaine said, laughing.

Amanda sat silent for a while, getting a far off look on her face.

"You're imagining Kurt and I having sex, aren't you?" said Blaine, completely deadpan and like he had dealt with this issue before

Amanda shrugged as like 'sure, yeah.'

"That's creepy," Blaine said. "Please stop."

"You are two good looking men. You can't really blame me."

…

The couple was eating dinner when the doorbell rang.

"You expecting anyone?" Kurt asked Blaine.

"No. You?"

Kurt shook his head, and set down his fork. "I'll get it."

As soon as he opened the door, he was consumed in giant hug with an unfamiliar man. "Kurt, there's my biggest fan."

Kurt was still in this person's embrace.

"Coop, what're you doing here?" Blaine asked from behind him.

The man, Cooper, that name, sounded familiar to Kurt… Blaine had mentioned before, and only when the man released Kurt to go after Blaine with another all consuming hug and saying "Hey, squirt," and Kurt got a good look at that did he recognize him from pictures. He put it all together.

"Oh, Cooper, your brother," Kurt said out, finally having an understanding.

"Yes, Cooper, his brother," Cooper said, letting go of Blaine. Kurt saw that Cooper had messed up his hair and Blaine was, disgruntled, trying to rack it back down. "Don't say it like you don't remember me."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up and Blaine huffed in the background.

"Coop, did you ever listen to that voicemail I left you… or read that email I sent."

` Cooper turned back to his brother, who was giving him quite the 'I'm judging you' look. "You know," he said, pointing at Blaine, "I saw them, but I never got to them. Life of a busy actor."

"You're an actor?" Kurt asked, surprised, but eyes lighting up. While he had found his niche as fashion editor, he always got stars in his eyes for fame.

"A commercial actor," Blaine quickly corrected.

"Well, we all have to start somewhere," Cooper said, not losing his grin, and throwing an arm around Blaine's shoulder.

"Yeah, but you started there a long time ago," Blaine replied quickly.

"I'm confused," Kurt said.

So Blaine invited Cooper to share in the rest of their dinner and explained to him about Kurt's accident and memory loss. Blaine was relieved to see Cooper actually react genuinely and concerned. Then he sure took a lot of time explaining their relationship as brother-in-laws. Blaine could tell from Kurt's face that he was quite enamored with him, although amused, some, too.

Cooper ended up sleeping on their couch for the night, but would have to be heading out early in the morning for a plane. He had only been in New York for the night and had dropped by for a visit. In their bed, Kurt commented, "So, your brother."

"Yes, my brother. He's kind of a lot."

"I got that."

"And he can be a bit self-absorbed, but he mostly means well."

"He's very handsome," Kurt said plaintively.

"Oh?" Blaine said, unsure of what Kurt meant by it.

Kurt rolled up right behind Blaine and whispered, "But I prefer you."

* * *

><p>Aki- One, Amanda was the voice of the Klaine fandom this chapter. Two, that was the extent my Cooper cameo. (He didn't exist when I first started this story.) Three, this story will soon be drawing to the end soon enough (but don't fret, there are still a few more chapters, but Kurt is on the mend, so there are just a few more bumps in the road). But don't fret, I have plans for more fics.<p> 


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

One day, Blaine came home from work to find Kurt crying silently on the couch.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Blaine rushed forward, dropping his satchel and taking a seat next to Kurt.

"No, I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm happy actually," Kurt said, wiping at his cheeks. "I just remembered coming out to my dad and few other moments with him and how great he was. I got to give a call."

"Oh, that's great," Blaine said, leaning over to kiss Kurt on the temple. Then, "Wait, were your napping, or did remember…"

"When I was awake," Kurt said with a grin. "It was kinda like a daydream. I was just sitting here, kinda zoning out, and boom, there it was."

"That's amazing, Kurt," Blaine said with another kiss. "That's got to be positive progress."

"Yeah," Kurt said around a chuckle. Then, quieter, teasing, "Want to celebrate."

Blaine bit his lip and nodded. "You're why everyone school thinks I'm sick, because I'm not getting enough sleep."

Kurt pressed a series of kisses across Blaine's jaw and then to the corner of his lips. "I can't help it if I'm irresistible."

Blaine moaned. "I love it when you're forward."

"I love it when you do that thing with your tongue… you know what I'm talking about."

"Hmm, I might have to try a few things to be sure which one is your favorite," Blaine said back.

Neither felt that there was time to get to the bedroom, but the living room floor did them just fine.

…

"What did you just say?" Kurt snapped.

"Nothing," Blaine replied, putting some dirty dishes in the sink.

"No, you muttered something under your breath. Obviously, you have something to say," Kurt said, and then, really sarcastically, "Please speak up."

"Okay," Blaine said, turning sharply around from the sink to eye down his husband. "You want to know what I said. I think this whole magazine thing came at a real inopportune time."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It just seems interesting that you decided on a big career switch, one with no steady income, when we were looking into adoption," Blaine was with a one-shouldered shrug.

"This magazine has been my dream for years," Kurt said, putting a hand to his chest, and obviously disgusted. "And you're trying to find some dark meaning behind it when I finally found the friends and the balls to actually do it."

Blaine put his hands up defensively. "I'm just calling it how I see it."

"Well, you should get your eyes checked."

"Oh, yeah, that was clever."

"You know what, Blaine, just shut up," Kurt said, turning away from Blaine, and a taking a step towards leaving the kitchen.

"Look, you were the one who wanted to know what I said," Blaine called after him.

Kurt turned on his heel. "And you were the one who said it in the first place."

"Well, it just seems off to be. We decided to start saving up, and I was taking more hours after school for detention and extracurriculars, so we could have money to have a place that we could have a child."

"And you don't think I want that?" Kurt protested.

"You're not contributing towards it," Blaine said.

"How dare you!" Kurt said, his voice on the edge of hysteria. "How dare you try to taint this one thing I have that makes me feel accomplished. I got turned down by NYADA. I go to auditions all the time and barely ever get a callback. With the magazine, I can succeed for once." He got quieter then, "You wouldn't understand. You go perform at an open mic night and end with a fan club and fifteen phone numbers—"

"Don't turn this into a comparison between you and me. I don't want to hear any of this'alpha gay' shit you bring up every time you're upset. I'm with you. I chose you."

"You don't seem too happy with me at the moment."

"Maybe that's because I'm not!"

And that's when Kurt snapped back into reality. He had been lying on the living room floor, still naked after frankly fabulous sex with his husband. He had been half awake and staring at the ceiling, that just came to him, fresh and raw. He felt out of breathe, even though he hadn't been actually crying and yelling. It was different from the other bad memories he had, because those ones, even though they scared him, didn't feel so close.

Kurt rolled over and stood up, searching out his underwear and pants from where they had been strewn elsewhere on the floor. Blaine stirred from what had been his sleep at the absence of Kurt's warmth.

"Hey, what's up?" and then catching a view of Kurt's distraught face, "What's wrong?"

"It's just," Kurt started, and then paused. He finished buttoning his pants— and Blaine was now scrambling with his clothes now that one of them was partially dressed— and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why would you say those things?"

"What things? What are you talking about?" Blaine asked, almost desperately.

"That I wasn't contributing to us, that the magazine came at a suspiciously inconvenient time," Kurt voice got higher, "that you weren't happy with me."

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine said, his voice raw. Now he looked pretty devastated too. "I—I didn't mean those things."

"It sounded like it though." Kurt had his arms wrapped around himself and seemed to curl into himself a bit. "I never heard you talk like that before."

"I'm sorry, Kurt. You know I am."

"Do I?" Kurt said around a sad kind of laugh. "Seems like I barely know you."

"Please, don't be like that," Blaine said, coming close to Kurt and reaching out. Kurt moved out of range.

"How I am supposed to know you. I barely remember you. I've only known you for a few weeks. The only things I have remembered about you was meeting you than this."

"We married," Blaine said, "Married people fight sometimes, when their stressed out."

"I know, I know." Kurt ran a finger through his hair and started to pace. "I know, I heard my parents fight when I was little, even as they tried to hide it. It just… it still hurts. Everything seemed so ideal here, between us… I just, we resolved this right? Tell me how we resolved it."

"Kurt," Blaine said, his voice cracking. He was leaning against the wall and honestly looked close to tears. "After that fight, you went on drive to cool down, and that's when you got in the accident that put you in a coma, that made me think I was going to lose you, and made you lose your memories."

Kurt just stared at Blaine.

"We never got a chance to resolve it. But I _am_ sorry for what I said that hurt you."

"You mentioned a fight," Kurt said after a prolonged silence. "You mentioned that we had gotten into a fight back when I woke up at the hospital."

"I did."

"Why didn't you explain then?"

"You didn't know who I was," Blaine said. "How was I supposed to explain the complexities of our relationship?"

"It makes sense. Everything you're saying makes sense," Kurt said. He was motioning with his hands in the air, but not at Blaine, but for himself. "But it still stands that the fight was never resolved."

"It would've been resolved. I promise you that. It would've been okay. We would've been okay."

"How do I know that, though?" Kurt said. He wasn't trying to argue; he was really just that shaken up. "I didn't recognize the you that was in that flash I just got. And I didn't recognize me either."

"It wasn't one of my better moments," Blaine said. "I'm not proud, and I'm not usually like that. Neither are you. We're usually better at communication."

Kurt ran a hand through his hair again. "I need to just… think about everything for a while."

* * *

><p>Aki- Writing a fight between Klaine is Hard! Seriously. I wanted it to be two-sided though, and I am not sure if I accomplished that, but yeah. Here it is. I guess this is a cliffhanger? But who am I kidding, you know Klaine is going to be alright.<p> 


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Blaine felt awful, just awful. Kurt had disappeared into the bedroom, like he usually did when he was upset, both before and after the amnesia. So here Blaine was, out of it, on the couch, staring at the commercials on the TV. He wasn't sure which channel he was on or what he was watching.

He always hated getting into fights with Kurt. They happened, because you can't be such a big part of someone's life, and they yours, without there being clashes, of various magnitudes, every now and again. But it still hurt. After the rush of anger and pumping adrenaline, it just left you feeling… hollow. Or, at least it did for Blaine.

He ran his fingers through his hair, probably for the tenth time. There was gel on his hands and his hair was most likely ridiculous and sticking up all over. He wanted Kurt to come out of the bedroom, just to see him.

He thought he wouldn't get a chance to apologize, for that stupid fight and the mean things he said. When he got that phone call that Kurt, his Kurt, was in the hospital because of a car accident… They didn't tell him anything more than that until he reached the hospital, but that made him worry more. If it had been nothing to worry about… well, it would have been Kurt calling or they would have said it was just a broken arm or something. But no, they couldn't give any information away over the phone.

Then he got there, and there was at least fifteen minutes of waiting and asking questions, before he got any answers. It felt longer. Hours. Eternity. Finally, the nurses hooked him up with the doctor on Kurt's case.

He asked Blaine to sit down. Blaine couldn't breathe. There was a moment when he thought the words he was going to here would ones saying Kurt was gone. Dead.

It was almost a relief, yet still terribly terrifying, to hear that Kurt was in a coma.

He spent the next days next to Kurt's bed, alternating between crying, and watching, and sleeping, and talking to Kurt. Talking about their best memories, begging him to wake up, apologizing over and over again, and sometimes just babbling about random like he would often with Kurt.

Then Kurt woke up, and the whole world had color again.

…

Kurt was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed he shared so often with Blaine. Blaine. God, Blaine. He was… well, Kurt didn't know. Blaine had proven over and over again that he was great guy. He had been so supportive and so loving. Kurt wasn't made at him. That had never been it.

He was more…flustered than anything. I mean, logically he knew that no relationship was perfect, but what he had remembered hadn't been a spat. It had been all out battle. He had been mean. Blaine had been mean. He hadn't seen Blaine mean before, and in fact, yesterday it would have been impossible to imagine. Kurt knew he could be mean, but it hard to imagine being mean to Blaine.

Kurt let out an exasperated sigh, and dug out his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Rachel.

"Hey, Kurt. What's up?"

"Rachel," Kurt practically whined, plopping back against the pillows. "I have another problem."

"Oh, my, well please feel free to confide in me yet again, although I believe you still haven't gotten any memories of me yet."

"Rachel," Kurt scolded. "I've told you time and time again that I cannot force what I remember."

"I know, it's just interesting is all."

"I called apart a problem, remember?"

"Yes, of course, please proceed."

Kurt started his story, but Rachel loved to interrupt.

"Wait, what were you doing naked on the living room floor?"

"That—," Kurt stuttered, "That's not relevant."

"Kurt, I've walked on that floor. I've _sat_ on that floor."

"Rachel, we're getting off topic here."

Kurt told her about the memory and his resulting confrontation with Blaine, and now his sequestered confusion. Rachel laughed.

"You're that hung up about a fight?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," he said indignantly. "It was a terrible fight."

"Trust me on this, Kurt, you and Blaine are like the most stable, working relationship I have ever seen. You always talk things out. But when you do fight, it's explosive and dramatic. There are usually musical numbers, and tears, and storm outs, and then it is all resolved with exclamations of love."

Kurt bit his lip and then asked, voice full of hope, "Really? I mean, Blaine and I would've made it past this?"

Rachel scoffed. "No doubt in my mind."

"Thanks, Rachel."

A few minutes later, and the conversation was over. Kurt ended the call and was left to think for a little while.

…

Blaine had fallen asleep on the couch. He head was lolled back over the top of the couch. Kurt found it adorable.

He had finally come out of the bedroom. He had dressed down, had pulled on a slim-fitting zipper hoodie jacket that he wasn't sure belonged to him or Blaine. It sure felt expensive though. Kurt climbed onto the couch on his knees next to Blaine and gently shook his husband's shoulder. Blaine stirred and then woke.

"Hey, you okay?" Blaine asked, urgent and nervous.

"I'm fine," Kurt said, his voice a whisper. "What I want you to do right now, is go get changed into something comfortable. I want to order in delivery and eat at the coffee table like that one time with Mark and Missy. We should turn on some music, and open one of those bottles of wine in the top cabinet in the kitchen. And talk. That's what I want right now. Okay?"

"Okay," Blaine whispered in return. He had no clue what was going through Kurt's head, but he couldn't denied him anything in that moment.

Kurt kissed him on the cheek, and sent him off to change his clothes.

…

Blaine was in sweatpants and a polo shirt. They ordered in Greek food from a local restaurant. Blaine had broken out a bottle of white wine. Kurt had turned the TV to a radio channel that was playing swing music and turned it down low.

They ate, sitting on the living room floor, on opposite sides of the coffee table, quiet. They were mostly done their salads, and hadn't really said much to each other. Blaine cupped his glass of wine and took a sip.

"This is like a date," he said.

"I don't know. I don't remember being on any dates," Kurt said back, almost shy.

"I should take you on a date then. Out to a fancy restaurant so you can really dress up, then to a show. This is New York after all."

Kurt smiled. "I think I'd like that… but," he said, his tone not accusatory at all, "Aren't we trying to save money?"

"I think we should be putting ourselves first right now," Blaine said.

Kurt nodded, but didn't look up from the table. It felt five steps back, to Blaine, to the days Kurt just came back from the hospital and was skittish around him.

"Kurt?" Blaine said. "Why did you want to do… this dinner thing, right now?"

"I'm, um…" Kurt cleared his throat, but his voice was still off when he spoke again. "I just," he cut off again. He ducked his head more. Blaine thought he might be crying, and when Kurt finally looked up he was a bit teary-eyed. "I love you. And I—um," he paused to sniffle. "I know I said it before, but I didn't realize how much until I thought I could lose you."

"Kurt, you're not going to lose me. Not ever," Blaine said, and he was getting all weepy now too.

Without saying a word, they were both on their knees, leaning over the coffee table, careless of the plates and cups of wine, pressing their mouths together. It was less of a kiss and more of a desperate connection— that they were there and were going to be there, forever, always.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

"How's Kurt?" Amanda asked. It was a usually refrain between them, even before the accident. It was both because of their friendship and that she liked to live a bit vicariously through them.

"I want to take him out on a fancy date, but he's got it in his head that it would be too much money and refuses."

"A date doesn't have to be expensive, Blaine," she said with a twirl of her hand.

"I know, but he deserves a big, proper, expensive date after all the crap he's been through lately. We both do."

"Oh, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, you are usually so much more of a clever romantic than this. You are disappointing me at the moment," Amanda said with an exaggerated shake of the head.

Blaine just gave her a look.

"Geez, Blaine, I have only heard the story of Kurt and yours first date here in New York like a hundred million times…"

"Oh. Oh!"

Amanda just shook her head again.

"But still, I wouldn't be able to do—"

"I'll take care of it," Amanda said.

…

Kurt had to admit that he was really excited for the secret date Blaine had planned. Blaine had assured him, two days ago when he came home from work and pronounced that they would be going out on a romantic evening after all, that it would be a cheap date. He spent the whole next day when Blaine was out trying on his different clothes – he still didn't remember them, and he had a lot – to pick out the perfect outfit. Now, he was going through his top contenders to make the final decision. His first date! Well, not really, but still.

Blaine came home, and was in his own flurry of getting ready.

"Can you please lock yourself in the bedroom," Blaine pleaded. "I have to get things ready, but I want it to be a surprise."

"Alright, alright," Kurt mock complained, but sidetracked on his way to the bedroom to get the front door as the doorbell rang. Blaine had been busy in the kitchen after all. Kurt thought he had caught sight of a picnic basket.

He opened the door and an unfamiliar, but pretty woman was stranding there, her hair a bit frazzled. She seemed a little surprised to see him.

"Oh, hey Kurt, I was just looking to drop something off for Blaine." She held up an envelope. "I'm Amanda, by the way. I know you don't remember me, but I'm Blaine's best friend."

"No, you're not!" called Blaine from the other room.

"Then who is?" Amanda responded with her own shout.

There was a telling silence.

"Exactly," Amanda added, and then, quieter, just to Kurt, who was observing all with a slightly judgmental expression. "Tell Blaine he owes me for this," she said, flapping the envelope. "I had to deal with a double ex for it."

"A double ex?" Kurt questioned.

"Yeah, you know. Like a guy you date once, then break up, so he's your ex. Then you date him again, break up again, thus double ex. Twice the history and awkwardness all rolled into one."

"You're an odd person," Kurt said.

Amanda just shrugged. She handed the envelope over to Kurt. "No peaking." Then excused herself to leave.

…

"You're not going to blindfold me, are you?" Kurt asked as Blaine ushered Kurt to the car, after snatching the envelope away from him and getting Kurt to wait in the bedroom.

"No, but stop trying to figure out what we are doing before we do it, okay?"

"Half the fun is trying to guess!"

They got in Blaine's car, and Blaine turned on a special playlist for the occasion. A playlist of all of their songs, although Kurt didn't necessarily know it. He could tell Kurt liked the music though. Every time Blaine peaked over at Kurt during the drive he was bobbing his head or mouthing the words or humming along. He even knew Kurt couldn't remember a good deal of those songs, and he didn't mention it. He was getting things back, even ones he didn't notice, and it was blessing that didn't always have to be pointed out.

Blaine found a horrible and overpriced parking spot, got the picnic basket he had packed out of the backseat, and then offered Kurt his arm.

"I knew there was going to be a picnic," Kurt teased.

"Only 'cause you spied," Blaine replied with a grin, leading Kurt down the sidewalk.

"Well, when you offer a surprise date, how can you expect me not to snoop?"

A few blocks later, and they were at Central Park, and Kurt's eyes were glowing with excitement. Blaine found them a nice little secluded spot a little off the path, a grassy plot under a tall maple.

Blaine spread out a blanket he had draped over his shoulder, set down the basket, and offered a hand to Kurt to help him sit down. Kurt took the offered hand with a little roll of the eyes, but he was still smiling, and got down on the blanket. Blaine soon followed, sitting brush up against Kurt's side.

"So, what do you have in there?" Kurt said, nodding toward the basket.

"Well," Blaine said, pulling the basket close and opening it. "I have some sparkling cider." He pulled out the bottle and two plastic champaign glasses. Kurt took the bottle and worked on opening it. "I also have chocolate covered strawberries, and those cucumber tea sandwiches, and some of my famous pasta salad."

"Famous?" Kurt teased.

"Oh yes, quite. It has a movie deal."

"I'm sure." Kurt poured the cider into their two glasses. They both sipped and then leaned in for a kiss simultaneously. Someone wolf-whistled at them, and they ended up laughing into each other's mouths.

"Here," Blaine said, plucking a strawberry out of the basket and holding close to Kurt for him to bite.

"Put of your hand?"

"Come on, it's cute," Blaine insisted.

Kurt shifted forward and, with closed eyes, took a slow, careful bite of the strawberry. It was a lot sexier than Blaine had anticipated and he ended up having to shift awkwardly where he sat.

"Someone getting excited?" Kurt asked, and dammit, Blaine hadn't been as subtle as he hoped. Kurt smirked at him.

"Now it's your turn," Kurt said, getting his own strawberry and holding out for Blaine to bit. Blaine did without protest, but he was sure he didn't look nearly as good as Kurt doing so.

"Here, you got chocolate…" Kurt said, thumbing at the corner of Blaine's mouth. He then stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked it off.

"Now you're doing it on purpose," Blaine said. Kurt just winked. "Okay, time for sandwiches."

"And the famous pasta salad. I need to judge its talent."

"Of course."

About three quarters of an hour later, Blaine checked his watch and said, "Well, we should probably getting going for the second part of the date."

"Second part of the date?"

Blaine pulled the envelope out of the basket and handed it to Kurt. "Open it."

Kurt did, and inside were two tickets. "Broadway?" Kurt asked, excited.

"Of course," Blaine said. "Gershwin Theater."

"Gershwin…" Kurt started, but ended up staring off into the sky. "Hold up, I need to make a phone call." He pulled out his cell phone, and few moments later was saying into it, "Hey, Rach, I remembered that time we broke into Gershwin Theater. Now you can't complain about me not remembering you anymore." And with that he snapped the phone shut. "Let's go," he said to Blaine.

…

"That. Was. Amazing." It was maybe the fifteen time Kurt had said it since they left the theater, but Blaine wasn't getting tired of it. In fact, it made him smile each time, so much that his face was starting to hurt.

"You're beautiful when you're happy," Blaine said. "I mean, you're beautiful all the time, but especially when you're happy."

"I love you, Blaine."

"I love you too, Kurt."

They had already had their big declarations of love since Kurt's accident. More than once, even. But this time, right here, was something both more and less than that. It was a simple, understated, totally domestic exchange. All too familiar and routine, but never for a second lacking meaning.

* * *

><p>Aki- Sorry this took a while. Dream dates are fun to imagine in your head, but super boring to write in real life. Also, I started a new Klaine fanfic (although I had the beginning written long before this delay in updating for this story), so please go check it out through my profile, and review if you like it.<p> 


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

It wasn't a special moment. It was a Wednesday evening, and they were sitting together, but not talking, on the couch after dinner. Blaine was grading paper on the coffee table and Kurt was busy looking over potential editorials for the next edition of the magazine. There had been nothing to trigger him, at least not that he knew of, and yet, they hit him.

It was a swirl of scenes, all fast and consuming. A group of kids in red and black performing on stage before a full audience; holding his dad's hand as he lay in a hospital bed; a rendition of "Baby, It's Cold outside"; an "I've been looking for you forever" and a heart-stopping kiss. They came faster:  
>"I love you's" in a coffee shop; Rachel crying in his arms; laying in bed with Blaine, nose to nose; his dad winning his election; winning at Nationals and never feeling so alive than right then; graduation, a blur of tacky red robes… and more, less defined scenes— a wedding dance, an image of an apartment he recognized as his first, himself saying "let's have a baby."<p>

"Kurt… Kurt?" A hand was on his shoulder.

He blinked several times. "I…um…I…."

"Kurt?" Blaine repeated again.

"I remembered," Kurt said, gasping a little bit at his own declaration.

"Remembered what?" Blaine asked. His own eyes were wide and maybe a little worried. Kurt tended to zone out when memories were coming back from him, and he wondered how long he was out this time.

"Everything," Kurt said.

Blaine stared at him, mouth agape. "Everything?" he asked, his voice high pitched.

"Or close to it," Kurt whispered.

Their were few beats of heavy breathing between them, then Blaine was on his feet and pulled Kurt off the couch and into the bear hug. Despite being shorter, he managed to lift Kurt a few inches off the floor and twirled him around.

Kurt laughed. "God, put me down."

Blaine set him down on the ground, but he slotted his lips against Kurt's. "I can't believe it," he said, after he pulled back.

"Ask me anything," Kurt said with a grin.

"Okay, okay, let me think… alright, um, remember when we were went shopping to decorate our first apartment together and we got in a big argument over the colors—"

"For the bathroom," Kurt interrupted with a smile. "I wanted blue and you wanted orange. Really, Blaine, orange?"

"I know, you made me see the light eventually," Blaine said, pulling Kurt in again to peck him on the lips. "How do you feel?"

"Overwhelmed," Kurt said. "I still remember not remembering… how confused I was… and now I remember… it's weird. I don't know how to explain it."

"But you remember," Blaine said, awe-struck.

"I do," Kurt said, and Blaine pulled him into another hug. It was where Kurt was meant to be.

…

They were lying in bed next to each other later that very evening. They had nothing to do, but both were too filled with excitement to sleep. "So, what now?" Kurt said.

"What now?" Blaine repeated.

"It's been a while," Kurt said. "All of our life recently has been caught up with me not remembering or trying to remember or barely remembering. Now that I've remembered…what now?"

Blaine chuckled at the ceiling. "We live, and we love, and we make love."

"Sounds good," Kurt said. He then bit his lip in thought. He spoke hesitantly. "And we pursue that adoption."

Blaine rolled on his side to look at Kurt, the action urgent and hopeful. "Really?"

Kurt rolled to face his husband as well. "One of the things I remembered was how much I wanted to start a family with you."

Blaine took Kurt's hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the wedding ring on Kurt's finger.

"I want to have a family with you too."

"I know. I remember."

They moved, like magnets, towards each other until the tips of their noses were touching. They were staring at each other. Into each other.

Blaine grinned and it was so wide and teethy and uncontrolled that Kurt couldn't help but smile back until his face hurt. It was a surprising intimate position, so close and not having a need to back up or look away.

"We made it," Blaine said after a long time.

"Was there any doubt?"

* * *

><p>Aki- This is the last chapter. There will be an epilogue. Hope it doesn't seem abrupt. I had a list of the things I wanted to be in the story, and I have finished that list. So, yeah.<p> 


	25. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

They were in the midst of unpacking in their brand new, spacious condo – the first piece of property the owned – when they got the call.

"Oh, God," Blaine said when he got off the phone, running over and grabbing Kurt by the sleeve. "It's time."

Kurt's eyes widened almost comically huge, and in any other situation, Blaine would've pointed it out.

"You mean—?"

Blaine nodded frantically.

Kurt's mouth gapped open and closed a few times before he came to his senses. "What're we waiting around for? Let's go!"

"Wait," Blaine said, digging his heels in the carpet when Kurt tried to drag him toward the door.

"Why?"

"You need shoes. And I need keys and my wallet."

"Right – two minutes than we're out of here."

The drive was tightly tense and silent and giddy all in one.

"You need to stop squeezing my hand, Kurt," Blaine said at one point.

"Sorry." Kurt released Blaine's right hand so he could drive, and Kurt started ringing his hands in his lap. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Me either," Blaine said. It was all that needed to be said.

…

Once parked and in the building, they ran through the halls and rode up an elevator all thrumming with nervous energy, until they got to the desk outside the maternity ward.

"Hey, we're having a baby," said Blaine to the nurse on duty. She blinked and looked at them confused.

"Marissa Ellington is having a baby," Kurt clarified, "And we're adopting it – him – her. We don't know yet."

"Oh, right, of course. I was told to expect you. Here's your visitor badges. Please keep them on, or they will mercilessly throw you out of the maternity ward. They don't want people stealing babies – I'm serious about that." And she leveled a look at them to get her seriousness across.

The two attached the badges their clothes and pushed through the hallway door until they found the room with Marissa's name on the placard. Blaine took Kurt's hand and they grinned at each other.

"This is it," Blaine said, voice all voice and husky with emotion.

Kurt just nodded. He knocked on the door.

"Come in," a voice called.

Marissa was in bed, hair a mess, looking tired, but with a content type of look on her face. There was also a nurse, fussing over wrapping a baby up in a blanket.

"Hey," Kurt said quietly as they entered, almost afraid of the moment.

"Hey, guys," Marissa said with a small smile. She was a nineteen year old who had picked Kurt and Blaine specifically out to be the adoptive parents of her child. She never really wanted to be a mother, ever, but she had felt, or so she had told them, that there were people out there who want and deserve children who have a hard time getting them, so that was why she decided to carry her baby to term.

"How're you feeling?" Blaine asked, going to her bedside and leaning over to give her a loose hug.

"Like shit, but better now that labor's over," she quipped.

"Are these the daddies?" the nurse asked, newborn cradled in her arms.

Kurt nodded jerkily.

"You want to hold him?" the nurse said.

"Him?" Kurt questioned, looking over to Marissa for confirmation.

"It's a boy," she said.

"Here you go." The nurse carefully moved the baby into Kurt's arms. Blaine came to stand right next to him, and he carefully ghosted a hand over the baby's head, and then leaned down to brush a kiss to his forehead.

"He's beautiful," Blaine said. "Did you name him?" he asked Marissa.

"I thought I'd leave that up to you two, but I have suggestion…"

"Shoot."

"Carson," she said.

"Carson," Kurt repeated, staring down at his child, awestruck, "I like it."

"Carson Hummel-Anderson," Blaine said. "Our son."

There eyes flicked up to meet. Blaine was wearing a face-splitting smile.

"Hi, daddy," he said to Kurt.

"Hi, daddy," Kurt said back.

* * *

><p>Aki- So, this is the end. Don't fret too much. I do have another klaine fanfic started and have more planned (thought not a sequel for this one like many reviewers requested). Anyway. this is it. Bye bye.<p> 


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